Pride and Prejudice: A Series of Vignettes
by TheLadyJuliette
Summary: What happened in that period so alluded as Elizabeth and Darcy's 'Season of Courtship? How did Elizabeth settle in at Pemberley, and assume her role as mistress? What ever could the Darcy children be like, and what are our favourite couple like as parents? An ever growing collection of vignettes that attempt to fill in the gaps Miss Jane 'Genius' Austen left to our imagination!
1. And He Expressed Himself

_Elizabeth feeling all the more than common awkwardness and anxiety of his situation, now forced herself to speak; and immediately, though not very fluently, gave him to understand, that her sentiments had undergone so material a change, since the period to which he alluded, as to make her receive with gratitude and pleasure, his present assurances._

The happiness that this reply produced, was such as Darcy had probably never felt before, and he expressed himself on the occasion as sensibly and as warmly as a man violently in love can be supposed to do by impulsively cupping Elizabeth's face in his hands and kissing her.

Elizabeth, her happiness so great that she had lost control of the language, suddenly felt herself being kissed. Elizabeth was so surprised that she was unresponsive, causing Darcy to abruptly pull away, worried that he had overstepped a boundary.

He looked at her concernedly while she, still in shock, stared back at him.

"I am so sorry," he said. "I don't know why I did that without asking you."

Elizabeth, recovering herself, beamed at him. She looked around to confirm that there was no one in sight, and then looked back at Darcy. "I do," she said, and kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck.

When they finally pulled away, looking at each other in awe, they embraced.

Darcy could not describe how it felt to finally hold Elizabeth, to feel her head on his chest and her body in his arms, and to have her holding him back! After a year of fighting with himself, and with her, and overcoming the many obstacles that had obscured their present understanding, Darcy finally felt at peace, and it brought tears to his eyes.

Until the moment when she had accepted his proposal, Elizabeth had never admitted her feelings to herself, knowing they could never come to anything. Now, the repression was gone and Elizabeth poured all of her feelings into the embrace, some of them appearing as tears on her cheeks.

"I love you, Fitzwilliam," she whispered to both of them for the first time.

She said his name. Darcy had never thought his name could sound so pleasing, and he was overjoyed that she felt at liberty to use it. Darcy pulled slightly away, and kissed her very gently. "And I love you, Elizabeth, so very much."

They smiled at each other, and Elizabeth took his arm to continue to the walk. They began to talk of family, of Jane and Bingley, and of Lady Catherine, who had proved to be of infinite use.

And they would, occasionally, glance at the other to prove that it was all real. By the time they arrived back at Longbourn, and saw everyone, it sank in as a reality for both of them, and their happiness was unexplainable.

In the hall they parted, sharing a meaningful, loving glance.


	2. The Intruder in the Study

Mr Darcy was very nervous. He knew very well that Mr Bennet knew of Elizabeth's first impressions of him, and was also aware that it was very likely that she had not made her changing feelings known to her father. She had hardly made them known to _Jane_ until after she had accepted him, so there was really no hope of Mr Bennet's not being taken aback by the information.

On this, the second night of Elizabeth and Darcy's engagement, the family and their guests were sitting in the parlour. Mr Bennet rose some time later to retire to his study, and Darcy, not wanting to appear to be following him, waited a few minutes. When he did rise, he looked to Elizabeth, who gave a small yet anxious smile of encouragement. He took a deep breath, walked to the study, and knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" Came Mr Bennet's voice from inside.

"Mr Darcy, sir."

"Come in, come in!"

Darcy opened the door and said, "Mr Bennet, forgive my intrusion, but there is a matter of great import I must speak to you about."

Mr Bennet was astonished, but tried his best not to look it. He raised his eyebrow in a way very like Elizabeth's, and with a gesture invited Darcy inside. Mr Bennet was sitting behind his desk, and Darcy, in an awkward way that was not lost on Mr Bennet, sat down in a chair across from him. Mr Bennet stretched out his legs, and folded his hands across his belly.

"So, Mr Darcy," he said with a wry smile. "What can I do for you?"

Darcy took a deep breath, trying his best not to look as agitated as he felt, and said, "I have come to ask you for Miss Elizabeth's hand in marriage."

Mr Bennet's astonishment was now beyond expression. Surely the man must be in jest! But as he looked into the eyes of the young man in front of him, Mr Bennet saw that he was perfectly serious.

"I am sorry, sir, but am I to understand that Elizabeth, _my daughter Elizabeth_ , has accepted your hand in marriage?"

"Yes, sir," replied Darcy.

"With all due respect, sir, I understood that Elizabeth rather disliked you, and that her feelings were reciprocated by yourself!"

"She did dislike me, more than you know, I think; but I can honestly say that I have never reciprocated those feelings."

"She did dislike you, but she does not anymore, I suppose?" Mr Bennet was becoming frantic. He could not believe Elizabeth to be so blinded by wealth and consequence.

"She does not."

"Mr Darcy, surely you can see how this is appearing to me. I have never heard Elizabeth say anything that marks a regard for you, and have heard her, in the past, say things that mark quite the opposite! My daughter is not like other women – she is too intelligent to be happy with fine carriages and clothes." Mr Bennet said this last part in a whisper, like he was trying to convince himself.

Mr Darcy was silent for a moment, trying to formulate a response. Finally, he said, "Of that, sir, I am well aware."

Mr Bennet was silent, and Darcy felt the need to continue. "Mr Bennet, my relationship with Elizabeth has certainly had its downs, but for our present happiness, and confidence, we are indebted to them. My love for your daughter, sir, is not the work of a moment, and I can assure you has been tested by many things. It has not faltered."

Mr Bennet looked anguished. "You speak to me of _your_ love, sir, but not of my daughter's."

Darcy closed his eyes. Opening them again, he said, "I cannot speak for her, sir, but she has assured me that her feelings mirror mine."

"Oh yes? Well, since you cannot speak for _her,_ what are _your_ feelings if I may be so bold?" Mr Bennet got up and started to pace about the room in an agitated manner.

"That my love for Elizabeth is beyond anything I thought I could feel for another person! She is intelligent, and witty, and beautiful, and –" Darcy stopped to collect himself. "And I respect her more than you can know."

Mr Bennet was certainly affected at seeing this burst of passion from such an austere man, and said, "That is all very well, sir, but you must consider her situation. She can bring next to nothing to a marriage to you. She has next to no dowry, and will only inherit one thousand pounds after the decease of both her parents! Surely a man in your situation will come to resent her for that!"

"To our marriage Elizabeth brings herself, and that is all I want. I have more than enough money for the both of us."

Mr Bennet was shocked at his candidness. He said, "And children?"

Darcy looked at the floor, and smiled gently. Mr Bennet was taken aback – he had never seen Darcy smile before; it quite transformed his face. Darcy looked up at Mr Bennet.

"Sir, I can assure you that when it comes to my family none of them will ever want for anything."

Mr Bennet nodded. He certainly was affected, but he doubted very much that Elizabeth would be happy with such a man. She had never mentioned him with anything so positive as indifference – let alone love! Mr Bennet sighed – there was nothing else to be done.

"Alright, Mr Darcy. You have my consent."

Darcy smiled again, and said "Thank you, sir."

There was a pause, then Mr Bennet rose and said, "I would like to speak to Elizabeth, please; immediately. If you would fetch her now?"

Darcy nodded and exited the room. Mr Bennet started to pace nervously. 'Lizzy,' he thought to himself. 'What are you doing? Are you out of your senses to be accepting this man? Have you not always hated him?'


	3. Mrs Bennet's Birds and Bees

Jane and Elizabeth had succeeded in avoiding their mother thus far; they knew exactly what their mother wanted them alone for, and, as it happened, neither wanted to be subjected to a lecture on the birds and the bees. However today, it seemed, was to be the day Mrs Bennet finally cornered her two eldest daughters.

Jane and Elizabeth were sitting on Jane's bed at six o'clock in the morning, talking. They both cherished these times of intimacy, as they both knew that when married, they might not see each other for weeks. Although this saddened the sisters, they were more than placated to know that while they lost the society of each other, they would gain the society of another. Their fiancés.

This was how Mrs Bennet found her two daughters a week and a half after Elizabeth had announced her engagement.

"Girls, girls!"

Elizabeth and Jane turned together and in horror saw that their mother had locked the door. Mrs Bennet's handkerchief was fluttering nervously here and there as her hand did the same. Elizabeth kept her eyes on that to keep her composure, as she was sure that whatever information her mother disclosed would not be able to be borne with equanimity.

"Thank goodness I have found you here together! Your weddings are three weeks away and I still have so much with which to acquaint you! My nerves! How shall I bear it all! Oh but girls! The time has come for me to tell you about your marital duties. Now to start with your husbands shall want to share your bed. Quite often when you are first married, and until you bear a son. This shall be very unpleasant for you. You must do whatever your husbands tell you to do, of course, but there shall be mortification, and I have heard tales of humiliation! You must show no outward signs of disapproval, as your husband will be very angry with you. You must lie back and think of England, and your duty to your husbands to provide them with heirs. If your husband is overzealous, it might be not only uncomfortable but painful for you, but my dear girls you must show no outward signs of that. It is very unladylike to do so..."

Mrs Bennet then proceeded, in great detail, to explain to her two horrified daughters the intricacies of the marital bed. Once she had finished, Jane was stark white, and Elizabeth was trying to make sense of the differences between what her mother had described and the tender embraces she had shared with Darcy. Mrs Bennet paused for effect, and then continued, with, "there are always things you can do to dissuade your husbands, however. A locked door shall make your sentiments clear. Wax eloquent on the taxing effect being Mistress of such great estates has on you, or, you may use the excuse of a headache. You may even persuade your husbands to take a mistress! That way you shall not have to share his bed after sons are provided. No doubt men of the station of your fiancés," Mrs Bennet continued with a pointed look at Elizabeth, "will have already made arrangements of _this_ kind. But my girls! If you do not provide your husbands with sons, they will be very displeased you know! Though Mr Bennet favours you Lizzy I am sure that is only because there are no sons! Your husbands shall surely despise you if there are no sons to inherit their estates, mayhap your daughters too! Oh, my nerves! They shall go distracted."

Mrs Bennet then continued to elaborate on all of her previous points, effectively shocking her two daughters. There was then a knock on the door to inform them that the gentlemen themselves had arrived to spend the day with their fiancés, and the household was sent into chaos when the two maids were called up to help Jane and Elizabeth dress. Jane and Elizabeth; the former mortified, the latter confused, complied demurely when helped into their gowns and had their hair done. When they entered the room and saw the two smiling faces of their fiancés, the girls could not even meet their eyes. Mrs Bennet was greatly taxed by what she had just put her daughters through and had opted to remain upstairs. Bingley suggested a walk, and both girls took the arms of their fiancés. Bingley was confused by Jane's reticence, but Darcy had suspected something was wrong as soon as Elizabeth entered the room. He picked up on the way she would not meet his eye, would not meet Bingley's eye, would not meet her father's eye, and exchanged blushes with Jane whenever their eyes met. Now, when he had been walking with Elizabeth for over ten minutes, she still had made no attempt at conversation, and her furrowed brows made her seem in deep concentration, or perhaps even consternation, he knew that he had to break the barrier that had formed this morning. He saw the little bench near the top of the Mount where he and Elizabeth had spent so many happy hours conversing, and led her over to it. Darcy was at a loss as to what was wrong with his usually exuberant fiance. She still had not met his eye, and he gently lifted her chin so that she might. As soon as she did, her brows furrowed even further, and her cheeks went red. Although Elizabeth did not usually trust her mother, she had to admit that her mother had experience that she did not in this area, which made it impossible to disregard what she had been told, no matter how much she wanted to.

Elizabeth bit her lip, and moved her gaze to the ground.

"Will you not sit?" Darcy asked her softly. She sat down beside him, and he turned to face her. Understanding slowly began to dawn on Darcy as he observed his fiancé. Her downcast eyes, her hands tightly clasped, her bowed head. Mrs Bennet had not been present at the gathering this morning. Jane had also looked distressed. As he continued to think about it, he realised that he knew exactly what the problem was. He thought for a moment about confronting the issue head-on, but then decided that in this situation a more delicate approach was required.

"Something is troubling you Elizabeth," said Darcy. "You are not at all yourself today."

Elizabeth only nodded, her gaze still fixed on the ground. Darcy moved a little closer to her, and after a moment's deliberation, gently took her hand, giving it a little, reassuring squeeze. Elizabeth looked up at him at once, and although she blushed again she did not look away. She looked into his eyes, and saw nothing but concern and compassion. She was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. 'I fear many things,' she thought. 'But you, Fitzwilliam, are not one of them. We will discuss this together.' She squeezed his hand in response before taking a deep breath.

"My mother, this morning, had a little tête-à-tête with me and Jane about –" here she stopped, thinking on how to proceed.

"About?" Darcy prompted.

She looked at him, her eyes wide and mortified looking. "About, well," she started. "About the marital duties of a woman."

Darcy continued to look Elizabeth in the eye. Although the topic was a little uncomfortable to discuss in this way, Elizabeth had now validated Darcy's assumption, and he was ready to talk about it with her.

"What did your mother say?" he asked, still holding her hand.

Elizabeth raised both eyebrows and gave a little half-hearted chuckle.

Darcy sighed. Damn. That bad, was it? Darcy knew he shouldn't be surprised, with a relationship like the one harboured by Mr and Mrs Bennet one could not expect any good to come of the conversation.

"Tell me, Elizabeth. If I know, I can refute any falsehoods."

"It is not at all proper."

"That has never stopped our conversations before," Darcy replied, and Elizabeth smiled.

"All of it?"

Darcy stared into her eyes and said, "All of it."

Elizabeth nodded, before taking a deep breath and saying, "My mother is not a discreet woman. To begin with, she talked of pain and humiliation, and the necessity to show no signs of it, for fear of offending you." Darcy looked appalled. "None of what she said was favourable. She then proceeded to tell us that should we wish to dissuade _you_ , we should lock our doors, complain of headaches, lie to you about being fatigued, or even to persuade you to take a mistress."

Darcy reached to take Elizabeth's other hand. "Did your mother say anything else?"

"Yes, she did. She said that if I do not bear you a son it will at the very least put a strain on our relationship, and at the worst that you would resent me, and draw away from me, as my father has with my mother, and even, if you are particularly upset, any daughters we may have. She also said that you will have already made arrangements in regards to a mistress–"

"That is _not true_."

Elizabeth looked taken aback. Darcy had been all that was gentle, and now his eyes were blazing, his jaw clenched, and his words spaced apart from each other, his tone hard. "Elizabeth," he said. "I am shocked, disgusted by what you have just told me; I... don't know _what_ to say."

Darcy was thoroughly offended. He had kept silent throughout Elizabeth's speech, even though the part about the dismissal of his daughters, should he be blessed with any, nearly caused him to jump from the bench in anger. But the last part, the last part struck him cold. He could not believe the possibility of Elizabeth believing these – these accusations, yes. Accusations. That is exactly what they were.

"Let me tell you Elizabeth that I am _irrevocably_ in love with you. Do you know what that means?"

"I do not want to believe her, William. I… I do not believe her. It was just a shock, that is all."

This calmed Darcy a little, but he said, "Please, Elizabeth, let me finish."

Elizabeth nodded, looking at him, waiting for him to continue.

"It means," He said emphatically, "that whatever children we are blessed with shall be loved equally, and shall be given equal affection and equal opportunities. It means that not only our sons but our daughters as well will grow up knowing that their father loves them more than they could ever comprehend. It means that my preference shall never be given to a son simply because of his gender. It means that if you have five daughters like your mother I would not love you any less. It means that I am your _friend_ , Elizabeth, and that means that I would never impose myself on you, never try to take something from you that you are unwilling to give. It means that I would never hurt you, not for the world. To hurt you is to hurt myself." Darcy paused, and then said, "Do you know what else it means, when I tell you how much I love you?"

Elizabeth just continued to stare at him, her eyes wide and watering.

"It means that I would never, _never_ , disrespect you by taking a mistress. I love you so much, and I would never – I believe taking a mistress to be a horrid thing to do, I was never party to it, even though at Cambridge and in London that kind of behaviour is common. I did not know what situation would feel right, or honourable, out of wedlock, but it never occurred –"

"You have not, you have not, not," Elizabeth couldn't go on. She was so surprised by Darcy's admission that her mouth fell open. Darcy looked at her.

"No, Elizabeth, I have not. We shall learn together."

Elizabeth was so moved by her fiancé's words and his speech before them that she nodded vigorously before quickly wrapping her arms about his neck and burying her head in his shoulder. He moved her onto his lap and held her.

Elizabeth looked up from Darcy's shoulder and into his eyes. "Thank you, Fitzwilliam," she whispered, as they continued to hold each other. "You astonish me every day – I fall asleep thinking that it would be impossible for me to love you any more than I do, that the affection, the devotion I feel toward you could not be any more, it is overwhelming already. Then, the next day I see you and I prove myself wrong."

"Lizzy," Darcy whispered, touching her cheek. "Lizzy, believe me when I say that it is my wish that we will both enjoy the experience of being wed. I would wish for us to be on equal terms in that respect. I would also wish for you to _tell me_ if there is something, not just in regards to this, but in anything, that bothers or alarms you in any way. I would wish us to be the best of friends, Elizabeth."

"As do I."

They both smiled. Elizabeth continued. "I feel, however, that we have got off to a very promising start. I mean, even though this conversation was... perhaps a little embarrassing, I feel as if I can talk to you, about practically anything. I am confident that you shall take care of me, and I am confident that I shall reciprocate your care. I want to be with you always, and I always look forward to our outings, so that we may spend time alone. I want you to be as proud of me as I am of you, and I am extremely proud of you. Is that not what best friends have with one another?"

"Yes, it is," said Darcy before giving Elizabeth a dazzling smile that made her insides flutter. "And know this, Elizabeth," he continued. "I am extremely proud of you. I am proud of you because despite the various, shall we say constraints of our social circle, you always remain true to who you are. Despite what others think of you never change to please others. I greatly admire that about you."

"Thank you. I – I admire you too, in – in more ways than you can know."

"I love you, Elizabeth."

"I love you, Fitzwilliam."

Darcy just looked at her, and then they kissed, a hungry, passionate kiss. When, breathless, they finally pulled apart, Elizabeth, her wit returning to her, said with a smile, "I believe I shall very much like learning to be your wife Fitzwilliam."

"And I your husband; dearest, loveliest Elizabeth."


	4. What Mr Bennet Saw

Mr Bennet had talked to Elizabeth. She had stated sincerely her love for him, in tears as she did. There was nothing else to be done. He had tried to engage Elizabeth in conversation more often of late, trying to pick up subtle hints that she was not happy with her engagement. Those hints did not exist. Elizabeth was in a state of bliss. Mr Bennet was envious that the highlight of her day was to be in solitary companionship with her intended, as previously he fancied a chess match or an intellectual discussion with him had been, in addition to her regular walks about the country side. He was losing his favourite daughter, and he abhorred it. The worst part of it was that Mr Bennet was actually starting to like Darcy. He wasn't faultless, by any means, but how both he and Elizabeth complimented each other in both intellect and temperament, and regard, was. When Mr Bennet looked at Darcy, he saw a kind, generous, honest man with integrity and an intellect far superior to his own. He suited Elizabeth perfectly. And the realisation of that crushed her father.

Elizabeth and Darcy had been engaged for three weeks. The townspeople of Meryton had initially presumed that she was marrying him only for his money, but after about a week of public appearances they could no longer cling to this theory. It was blatantly obvious that Elizabeth and Darcy were besotted with one another. However, one things that was not obvious because the townspeople of Meryton were not witness to the couple's private interviews, though it was true, was the fact that Darcy and Elizabeth, besides being in love with one another, were best friends. And they both knew it.

Elizabeth sat waiting at Longbourn on the twenty-second day of her engagement to Fitzwilliam Darcy, perched on the window seat of the parlour, watching for when she would see him mounted on his horse to come and spend the day with her. She would wake up every morning and dress in appropriate walking attire and go down to breakfast. After breakfast she would read or play the pianoforte until her and Jane's fiancés arrived, and then go out walking with Darcy. Sometimes they would take a book, and he would read to her, or vice versa. Most of the time, though, they just talked. When Elizabeth and Darcy entered an engagement, they went in with the knowledge of each-others' faults and virtues, and personality and demeanour. However, they did not know the simple things about each other, like each other's favourite foods or favourite colour, and both delighted in learning them.

On this, the twenty-second day of her engagement, Elizabeth's face lit up as she saw a smiling Mr Darcy and a grinning Mr Bingley on their mounts headed for the front door of Longbourn. Mrs Bennet saw them too. Her needlework almost flew out of her hand as she hastened to straighten Jane and Elizabeth's dresses, berating Elizabeth for being dressed in her everyday walking attire instead of a gown, as she had made Jane wear. Elizabeth rolled her eyes and tried to pull her clothes away until Hill announced the visitors. Mrs Bennet moved very quickly back to her chair, and Kitty and Mary stood to join Jane and Elizabeth, who were already standing. The gentlemen entered, and the usual formalities were exercised. Bows and curtsies were exchanged, and Darcy answered with polite civility the questions asked of him by Mrs Bennet. Bingley answered them all in good humour, but by the fifteenth or sixteenth he started shooting longing glances in Jane's direction. After about thirty of Mrs Bennet's questions, Darcy interrupted as politely as he could, requesting a walk for the four of them, knowing perfectly well that even though they were to chaperone each other, the two respective couples would go their own ways as soon as they were out of sight of the house. Elizabeth took Darcy's arm and Jane took Bingley's, and the two couples left the grounds of Longbourn. Jane and Bingley found some secluded area near the house, and Elizabeth and Darcy continued walking up Oakham Mount. They walked in silence for some time, when Elizabeth said, "William,"

To which Darcy responded with, "Yes, Elizabeth?" Smiling at her affectionately.

"You have never told me your birthday," she replied. Darcy laughed. "My birthday is the third of September. When is yours?"

"The twenty-first of February."

"We must celebrate it, then, at Pemberley."

"Thank you, but I do not need it. At Longbourn birthdays were never really given much thought, except our fifteenth. When each of my sisters as well as myself turned fifteen our lives turned into a yearlong celebration of the 'which gentleman can I marry my daughter off to' game, courtesy of my mother."

Darcy laughed at Elizabeth's imitation of her mother, and pulled her a little closer. "You most certainly do need it," said Darcy, raising an eyebrow at her and smiling. "At Pemberley, we take the celebration of birthdays very seriously. It has been a tradition ever since I was a child, and after my parents died I made sure that it was continued for Georgiana's sake."

"What about your own?"

"Well, I usually do not do much in terms of estate matters on that day, Mrs Reynolds always prepares something small. But, ever since Georgiana went to school, I have never celebrated with anyone else."

Elizabeth frowned, sad for him. She could see that the celebration of that particular set of events was an important memory from his childhood, and she was determined that when they were both happily settled at Pemberley, she would do something to make his birthday very special.

One thing that the couple had not discussed was their ages. Elizabeth looked younger than Darcy, but did not act it. They had never a need to discuss their ages, but Elizabeth asked now as the subject of birthdays had been previously discussed.

"William, may I ask you a rather impertinent question?"

"You may ask me anything, Elizabeth, impertinent or otherwise. I would wish us to have no barriers. I would wish us to be equal."

Elizabeth was so overcome with his response to her remark that she reached up and kissed him, delighting them both. "Well," he prompted. "Ask away."

"I was wondering what your age was."

"I am eight and twenty. And yours?"

"I am almost one and twenty."

"Only?" he asked, surprised.

Elizabeth laughed. "Does that surprise you, sir?"

"A little," he said. "I had thought you were older."

"Does my age bother you, sir?" Elizabeth said in a teasing voice.

"Not at all," he said, perfectly seriously. "Age does not matter."

She smiled lovingly at him, and said in another tease, "What about if I was eight years your senior instead of eight years your junior?"

"Well," Darcy said, trying to formulate an answer. "If you were thirty-six you would already be married, I think."

"Hmm. I cannot fault that answer, sir. Well done."

"You would not be who you are now if you were eight years my senior," Darcy said imploringly.

Elizabeth softened at his expression, and said, "Oh do not worry, I was only teasing you,"

She then began to laugh.

"Minx," Darcy muttered, and Elizabeth laughed harder. They continued walking in a leisurely manner, before Darcy asked, "Where would you like to spend your next birthday, Elizabeth?"

"Do you not have to go to town for the Winter Season?"

"Not at all," he replied. "I could easily make up some excuse, I do detest the Season."

Elizabeth laughed, putting her head on his shoulder affectionately. "I would much prefer to spend it at Pemberley, Fitzwilliam."

Darcy grinned, he had hoped that that would be her answer. "I love you, Elizabeth, so very much," he said. "I love you too," she said, and, touching, his face, kissed him. Her arms went immediately around his neck and she pressed her body up against his. Darcy ran the hand that was at her face down her neck, down her arm, before it came to rest at her waist, along with his other hand. He pulled her in closer as the kiss deepened, his arms tightening around her waist as her arms tightened around his neck.

Mr Bennet had decided to take a walk. He knew what the rest of them didn't, that the two couples had no intention of chaperoning each other out of sight of the house, and he wanted to check up on both of his daughters and make sure both they and their intendeds were behaving in a proper manner. So, surprising his wife and two younger daughters, he set out with his hat and his cane and started to walk around Longbourn. In the little wilderness which Lady Catherine had decided to make her own during her last visit, Jane and Mr Bingley were sitting together, holding hands and talking quietly to each other. Often, Bingley would kiss Jane's hand, and then they would continue talking. Mr Bennet let them be, and continued onto Oakham Mount. As he was walking up he stopped in his tracks. About two hundred metres away, a couple was locked in a passionate embrace. Mr Bennet watched as they stopped kissing, and just held each other for what seemed like a very long time, her head resting on his chest, his cheek resting atop her head. The lady opened her eyes, which widened when she saw her father. Darcy had not seen him, as he was faced away, and not wanting to alert Darcy to her his presence, Elizabeth just smiled very gently at him, and then closed her eyes again, as she and her fiancé continued to hold each other. Mr Bennet wiped tears he had not noticed were there, and quickly walked down the Mount back to Longbourn, where without a word to any of his family, he locked himself in his library, sat in his chair, and began to cry.

Mary, who was outside reading, heard her father's crying, and decided, much against her usual principals, to enter her father's study immediately after knocking, instead of waiting for a reply. As she walked in, she saw Mr Bennet abruptly wipe his eyes and stand to greet her, staring indifferently at her as she studied him. "I heard you crying, Papa. Is everything not going as you wish it?" she said in a neutral tone.

"Yes, yes Mary, it is. I am just... no, you wouldn't understand."

Mary looked down. Mr Bennet looked at her and thought a minute, before saying with a sad smile, "I am afraid Lizzy is enjoying her engagement a little too much."

"I am glad that she derives pleasure from a biblical commandment. It is high time that Elizabeth started to follow my example in terms of religious study."

Mr Bennet closed his eyes and opened them again, before saying, "I was just teasing, child, I was just teasing."

Mary nodded and left the room, jealous if she would admit it. How come Elizabeth always got their father's witticisms? Mary felt left out, and then even more so, when she noticed Darcy chasing Elizabeth back to Longbourn as she laughed. Darcy finally caught her and quickly wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and lifting her into the air while she kicked lamely and laughed. She turned around in Darcy's arms and planted a long kiss on his lips, before he set her down and she took his arm. They walked into Longbourn arm in arm as if their behaviour while alone had been entirely appropriate. Mary watched as her father saw his favourite daughter, lit up, and invited both her and her fiancé inside his study, closing the door behind them.

In Mr Bennet's study was a beautiful chess set that reminded Darcy of one at Pemberley, a beloved antiquity kept in one of the studies. Mr Bennet made some remark about giving Darcy and Elizabeth a peaceful environment to be in within the chaos of Longbourn, although it was an excuse. Mr Bennet wanted Elizabeth in his presence for as much as possible until she left him. Elizabeth and Darcy sat down at the chess set and began a match. To Darcy's delight, in the first week of their engagement he had learnt that Elizabeth was a more than proficient chess player, as was he. Mr Bennet watched in amusement as Elizabeth challenged Darcy's skills, secretly proud as he had been to one to teach her. Now, Darcy had a king and a queen, and Elizabeth had king, a bishop and a rook. It was Darcy's move, and he had been thinking on it for fully ten minutes. Elizabeth, stifling a laugh at his frown, said, "Do you think we shall finish the game before dark, sir?"

Darcy looked up at her, and pursed his lips. "Do not rush me, madam, I am thinking."

"You have been thinking for the past ten minutes! I am sure a mind such as yours would have determined a solution by now?"

Darcy smirked, and moved his queen. "Check," he said. Elizabeth's eyes widened, and then she smiled. With her rook she took his queen, and said, "Check mate."

Darcy started to smile, and then shedding his usual veneer laughed aloud, and it was only a moment before Elizabeth was laughing with him, holding her hand out for him to shake.


	5. The Settlement Papers

Mr Bingley and Mr Bennet had spent but half a day in the latter's study discussing the settlement papers for Jane. Jane had not been called in, and had sat in happy ignorance in the company of Elizabeth when it was all going on. That week Mr Darcy had gone to London to discuss his and Elizabeth's settlement papers with his solicitor, and had just come back the day before. He had come in the afternoon to see Elizabeth, and their greeting had been loving and happy. Darcy was obviously tired from his trip, and Elizabeth was grateful that he had come that day at all. She had missed him greatly, and found that the more she was exposed to _his_ conversation, the conversation of most others became more tedious. Today, however, he had given her a kiss on the cheek (out of view of her parents, of course), and had shut himself in with Mr Bennet and the enormous bundle of papers he had come with from breakfast. It was now dinner time. They still had not come out of the study, and Elizabeth, growing more anxious with every hour Darcy had spent with her father more than Bingley had, finally heard the sound of the door opening.

Hill came into the parlour, and said, "Miss Elizabeth, your father and Mr Darcy require your presence in the library."

Elizabeth was astonished, as was Jane, who had not been called in to discuss her settlement. Jane looked down at the floor, and Elizabeth rose gracefully despite her anxiety, and walked with Hill to the study. Mr Bennet was frowning over the exorbitant amount of papers on the desk. Darcy looked up and gave her such a loving, reassuring smile that Elizabeth's anxiety all but dissipated. He held out his hand, and she took it, coming to sit in the chair next to his. Mr Bennet looked up.

"So, Lizzy," he started. "Before we start, it seems that the general population of Meryton has been quiet deceived when it comes to the worth of your fiancé."

Elizabeth looked up at Darcy, frowning. They had never discussed money – it was a subject neither was comfortable with, one having so much and the other nowhere near it.

"What do you mean, sir?" She said looking at her father. Then, deciding she would direct her question at Darcy, said, "Fitzwilliam?"

Darcy looked at Mr Bennet with a pained expression. Mr Bennet merely shrugged his shoulders. Darcy turned to Elizabeth, and sighed, before saying, "Despite what has been circulating around Meryton, I am not worth ten thousand a year, Elizabeth. Pemberley is. There is other property as well."

Elizabeth said nothing, but continued to look him in the eye. He continued. "I, there is a sheet with everything on it." Mr Bennet handed Darcy a long sheet of paper, and he in turn handed it to Elizabeth. Elizabeth took it, and gasped when she saw what was on it.

Darcy let her look at it a little, afraid of her response. She looked down the list of properties, and rested her eyes on the total, per annum. Elizabeth thought she was going to be sick. She started breathing heavily, but then collected herself. Pemberley was first, and next to it was ten thousand pounds a year. There was other property in Derby as well, fields and other, smaller houses all equating to about five thousand a year. There was also a property in Scotland, currently rented and worth six thousand pounds a year. There were two factories in Ireland, each worth two thousand a year. Lastly, there were details about investments in trade, across the continent and in places as far as India. This equated to another five thousand a year. He also had a very large townhouse. And a fortune of five-hundred thousand pounds.

Elizabeth just looked at him in shock. Thirty thousand a year. This must be a joke. She suddenly felt very unequal to the honour of being the wife of Mr Darcy. No wonder he had been so adamant about the disparity in their situations! She suddenly respected him even more, knowing what work must go into keeping these enterprises running. She felt honoured, blessed, scared, shocked that he had chosen her – but she felt unequal to saying anything at all. Knowing she must speak however, she said, in a very small, timid voice that she wished were less so,

"That is quiet a sum, sir."

The sir was not in jest, and Darcy hated it. Suddenly, he was overcome with emotion and the need to reassure the woman he loved. He took her other hand in his and said, "Elizabeth, Lizzy please, do not be overwhelmed by all of this. I only wanted you to know the truth about it, and for it to come from me. Besides, I like being believed to be worth less than I am – that way I am invited to less stuffy, boring parties."

Elizabeth managed a laugh, but them became serious again. "It is so much," she said. "I am honoured, Fitzwilliam, that you chose me." She gave a small smile to the floor. "It is my greatest wish that I may be worthy of it."

Darcy gently tilted her chin so their eyes were level again, and Elizabeth could see the intensity of his. Mr Bennet was quiet overwhelmed by Mr Darcy's treatment of Elizabeth.

"I chose you because you are intelligent, and beautiful, inside and out, and will do credit to the Darcy name. I chose you because I have no doubt that you will make an exemplary mistress of our estates, and that you will be a wonderful mother. But before I even considered any of that, I chose you because I love you. I love you more than I can say. I love you so much that it hurts. It is not you who must endeavour to be worthy, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth's eyes began to water and a tear rolled down her cheek. Darcy gently brushed it away.

"I love you too, Fitzwilliam," she whispered. "I will not let you down. I promise. I will be an asset to you."

Darcy saw the determination in her eyes as she said it, and felt the tightened clasp of her hands.

"I know," he said, smiling, and brought her hand up and kissed it.

Mr Bennet was overcome, grateful to this man, this man that loved his Lizzy so much. He was grateful that his Lizzy had found someone she could love in the same way. He looked at them, and ran a hand quickly over his face to dry his watering eyes. He no longer had any doubts as to Elizabeth's happiness.

"So, Lizzy," he said, after the moment had passed. "Now that you know exactly what you shall be getting into, Mr Darcy has requested that you be acquainted with every particular of your marriage settlement."

"I would not wish to hide anything from you," Darcy added.

"So," said Mr Bennet, splaying his hands on the desk. "Let us begin."

Mr Bennet pushed his spectacles further up his nose and looked at the first pile of papers. "For children, there has been one hundred thousand pounds set aside."

Elizabeth looked at Darcy in shock. "I want to make sure that younger children are adequately provided for, especially sons, who will not be able to marry into security. The money will be divided at our discretion. Besides, if we are to have five children, that would be twenty-five thousand each for the younger ones, divided equally."

Elizabeth just nodded. That did not equal the present Miss Darcy's fortune. Elizabeth realised that she would need to become accustomed to hearing such large amounts of money talked of in this way.

"As for your jointure," Darcy continued, "During my lifetime you shall have an allowance of fifty pounds a month, to do with as you wish. That money is your own, personal allowance. It does not include necessities such as clothing, shoes, etc., which will be paid for by other expenses. I believe that fifty pounds shall be adequate, but if you need more, you need only ask." Darcy smiled.

"Fifty pounds a month!" Elizabeth cried. "What am I to do with that?"

Elizabeth suddenly remembered Mr Bennet saying that he would not trust Kitty at Eastbourne for fifty pounds.

"If you are the survivor," Darcy continued. Elizabeth's grip on his hand tightened. "If you are the survivor, you shall have five thousand a year to support you."

"What on Earth?" Elizabeth breathed. "It is too much, Fitzwilliam. I do not need it."

"Nevertheless," he replied, firmly, "You shall have it. I intend provide for you and our children in every way possible. I will not have you relying on anyone else's good will."

Like Mama shall have to, Elizabeth thought to herself. She was again fiercely grateful, and humbled.

"You are too good, Fitzwilliam."

He kissed her hand again.

Once Elizabeth was made acquainted with every particular of her marriage settlement, Hill, who had been waiting to serve the evening meal, did so, and Elizabeth, Darcy, and Mr Bennet joined the others at the table. There were three different conversations going on. One between Mr Bennet and Mr Bingley, one between Mary and Kitty, and the other, which Mrs Bennet decided to start.

"What could you have been doing, Lizzy!" cried she. "Why, you were in there over an hour! It is all gentlemen's business, I say. It is better to stay out of it."

Elizabeth blushed, and Darcy answered for her. "On the contrary, madam," he said. "I believe it very important that Elizabeth know everything about what our situation will be. I value her opinion and wish to share my business with her."

Mrs Bennet had nothing to say to that, and Elizabeth smiled at Darcy. "It is my greatest wish to be of help to you," she said.

"Thank you," Darcy replied. "I appreciate that."

Elizabeth smiled, and Darcy continued. "We shall consult with each other and discuss matters together. We shall be partners."

Discretely, Elizabeth took his hand under the table and gave it a squeeze. He grinned at her, a sight quite unseen to any of the other family members, and it drew some attention.

Jane turned to Mr Bingley, considering the reasons why she had not been consulted with regards to _her_ marriage settlement.

"I wish to be of help to you as well, sir," she said, smiling at her fiancé. "You may trust me with anything."

Bingley beamed back at her, and said, "Dearest Jane, thank you. If I am in need of assistance, I shall certainly consult with you. But it is my greatest wish to never have to burden you with any of that. I want you to relax, and be comfortable and always happy! I would do anything for you, my sweetest Jane!"

"There, Jane, is not that better than being burdened with all the trying business of your husband's?"

"Definitely, Mama," answered Kitty.

Elizabeth certainly did not think so. She so wanted to be of use to Darcy, to show him that she will do her very best to be a credit to him, and although Jane smiled her agreement, Elizabeth could tell _she_ did not think so, either.

After the gentleman had gone back to Netherfield for the night, Elizabeth was brushing her hair out when she heard Jane's soft footfall enter her room. She turned and smiled at her sister, and Jane sat on the bed in contemplation.

"Why Jane," Elizabeth said with a chuckle. "You are usually oozing happiness. What is the matter?"

Jane looked at her sister and said, "Do you think Bingley will talk of his business with me?"

"I am sure that if it concerns you, he would not hesitate."

"What of the settlement papers? You were in there for an hour, and I was told nothing. The settlement papers concern me."

"Perhaps he did not want to talk of his money, when he knows that you love him for him. Fitzwilliam had difficulty with it as well."

"But he still struggled through it for the sake of being honest with you. He respects you very much," Jane said, in a quieter tone.

"He does. And I respect him more than anything. But Bingley respects you too, Jane, it is obvious in his expression when he looks at you."

Jane looked down again, still unconvinced.

"Jane, my dearest Jane," Elizabeth said, taking her hands. "Bingley adores you. If you believe that he should discuss matters of business with you, you must talk about it with him. I am sure he believes that he is only sparing you some tedium."

Jane smiled, and kissed Elizabeth on the cheek.


	6. A Conversation With Kitty

Elizabeth sat on the upstairs window seat at Longbourn, reading. She was, by habit, an early riser, and waking up from such wonderful dreams had decided, even considering the early hour, to sit by the window and wait for the object of them to come and spend the day with her. Elizabeth had dressed warmly, as though it was starting to cool both she and Darcy depended on their walks up Oakham Mount to spend time alone together. Elizabeth closed her book, pressed it to her lips, and giggled.

Kitty had come out of her room a few moments ago and witnessed her sister's display of happiness. Elizabeth had never looked more blissful than she had in the last two months. Kitty walked over to Elizabeth and sat down on the opposite side of the window seat.

"Good morning, Lizzy," she said.

"Oh! Good morning Kitty," Elizabeth laughed, being brought back to reality.

"Why are you up so early?"

"I am always up early, Kitty, but I am waiting for Mr Darcy to arrive so I may take a walk with him instead of alone."

"Oh," replied Kitty, looking down at the copy of 'Hamlet' in her hands.

Elizabeth, confused by the change in the usually forward Kitty, put her book to the side and asked, "What are you reading?"

Kitty blushed the deepest shade of crimson Elizabeth had ever seen, and looked up.

"I am reading 'Hamlet'," she said.

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. Like Lydia, Kitty had never been interested in anything like Shakespeare. She had preferred books like 'The Mysteries of Udolpho'. Still, Elizabeth was pleased. Removed from Lydia's influence Kitty was slowly, yet surely, improving. "Are you enjoying it?" Elizabeth asked.

"Yes, very much, though it is different from anything I have ever read before."

Elizabeth smiled. "You have never shown any interest in Shakespeare before, what changed your mind?"

Kitty blushed even more, and said, "Lydia is not here anymore. She is married, but out of the three of you she was the silliest and married the man of the least consequence. Jane is intelligent, but is quiet about it, and she is engaged to Mr Bingley, who is worth much more than five times what Wickham is. You read all the time, and are so clever – even though Mary flaunts her knowledge in religion and philosophy, I do believe you are quite the cleverest of all of us. You are engaged to the richest man."

"You think that if you make yourself cleverer the man that wants to marry you will be richer?"

Kitty nodded, still blushing.

"Do you think I am marrying Mr Darcy for his money?"

Kitty looked at the ground.

"Kitty, love is a complicated thing. I love my fiancé with all my heart. If he was the same person but without the situation I would still marry him and love him the same. However, the responsibility that has been placed on him at such a young age, to handle such money, has made him who he is. Does that make sense?"

"I think so. You would never marry for money but Mr Darcy's connections and situation has made him who he is, and you love him for him."

Elizabeth smiled. "Exactly, Kitty."

"You really love Mr Darcy, don't you Lizzy."

"I do."

"He always seems so severe, though, and you are always so lively."

Elizabeth chuckled, saying, "He is not severe when we are alone, or among those with whom he feels comfortable, like Aunt and Uncle Gardiner. We both know Mama and Mrs Phillips can be a little trying at times. When Mr Darcy and I are together I feel completely at ease. We have so much in common; we are best friends."

Kitty's eyes were wide. "Do you think I might marry like you?"

"You must marry for what makes you happy. If that is grand clothes and a large house then so be it, but if it is love the right partner will come along, and he will appreciate you for _who_ you are, and not _what_ you are. It might take a long time, but you are still only seventeen. You have many marriageable years before you."

Kitty smiled. "Thank you Lizzy."

Elizabeth squeezed her sister's hand.

They suddenly turned at the sound of hooves on the grass, and Elizabeth's face visibly lifted.

The day passed considerably quietly for a family such as the Bennets, and both Elizabeth and Jane were very surprised and pleased to see Kitty engage their father in a conversation about Shakespeare. Mr Bennet, thinking maybe she was not so silly after all, sat with her and talked her through the phrases which she did not understand, and was on the whole more patient with her than anyone could have expected. Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy came, of course, to spend time with their fiancés, and immediately they entered Mr Bingley proposed a walk for the four of them up the mount. He cast a pleading look at his friend, and Darcy, noticing but not letting on that he did, took Elizabeth down a different path to usual.

"Where are you taking me, Fitzwilliam?"

Darcy smiled at her. "Away from Bingley and Jane. They must have time to themselves today."

Elizabeth hesitated, before saying, "Jane was distressed last night, about what Bingley said at dinner. I know he thought it harmless, but –"

"I know. I talked to him about it."

"You did?" Elizabeth looked up at him in astonishment.

"I did."

"Well, what did he say?"

"Like you alluded to, he was not aware that he was causing Jane any distress. The other ladies who used to engage Bingley's attention were not like your sister. They wished, like so many young ladies," Darcy said disdainfully, "to be pampered and coddled and treated with deference rather than respect. I believe it will take Bingley some time to get used to the idea of an equal instead of someone to worship, but he is talking to Jane about it now."

Elizabeth smiled at his easy manner of directing his friend. "You pushed him to have that conversation, I suppose?"

"Not pushed, Elizabeth. I suggested it but once, and he jumped onto the idea immediately."

Elizabeth nodded, and they kept walking. Over on the main path, Bingley and Jane were having their conversation.

"My dear Jane, I fear I must apologise for distressing you last night! I never meant any offense, you may be assured!"

"It's alright, Charles, really. I just want you to understand that I want to be there for you as much as you are for me. I do not want to be worshipped, you know, and I would like to be of help to you."

"Thank you Jane. My sisters are not like you, they prefer to – well, anyway; and it will take a little time to get used to, but I promise I shall try. I promise not to keep anything from you, as a start."

"Thank you," Jane said succinctly, and placed a little, chaste kiss to Bingley's lips. Bingley could not keep the grin off his face all the way back to Longbourn, much to Darcy's amusement.


	7. The Party at Lucas Lodge

The Netherfield party, along with everyone else in the neighbourhood, were invited to a party at Lucas Lodge to celebrate the visit of the Collinses, and unlike the first, Elizabeth had every intention of dancing with Darcy. The two of them, after dancing together to Mrs Hurst's surprisingly gentle playing and avoiding Miss Bingley's glares, were conversing together at one of the windows.

"How are you enjoying the evening, Mr Darcy?" Elizabeth said, raising her eyebrow, knowing full well that before their set he had been bombarded with compliments and questions from absolutely everyone. Darcy smiled at her, saying in a low voice, "I have enjoyed it tolerably well."

"That must be due to your supposedly tolerable fiancé," said Elizabeth, pleased with her tease and grinning.

Darcy looked somewhat affronted. "You must know how much I regret saying that stupid thing; I think you are beautiful. I love you so very much, surely you –"

Elizabeth just laughed, and put a hand on Darcy's arm. "Oh, do relax. I was only teasing, dearest. You must become accustomed to my teasing, I am afraid," she said, smiling warmly at him.

"You are never going to let me live that comment down, are you," said Darcy, raising an eyebrow.

"No," said Elizabeth happily. "I do love to tease, and that comment will give me ammunition for a very long time."

"If you must, I suppose," said Darcy, exaggeratedly raising his eyes to the ceiling. "But I am ungentlemanly, I have heard, and so must deserve it."

Elizabeth's eyes and mouth widened, and she looked at her fiancé in shock. Darcy couldn't remember a time when he had been more pleased with himself.

"What, has no one ever been able to throw it back at you?" he said, grinning.

Elizabeth just continued to look at him.

"Well," replied Darcy with a slight mock bow, "I am honoured."

"Oh, do stop it," said Elizabeth, grinning too now.

Soon, after looking at each other a little, both were laughing merrily.

"For the record," said Elizabeth once the laughter had abated a little. "You are the most gentlemanly man I have ever had the pleasure of knowing."

Darcy smiled and took her hand. "And I do believe you are the most handsome woman," he said. "Fine eyes and all."

Elizabeth looked down at their intertwined fingers and smiled tenderly.

"Oh! Mr Darcy!" Mrs Bennet suddenly called, scurrying over to where her new favourite daughter was. Elizabeth gently released Darcy's hand and took his arm instead.

"Mrs Bennet," he said, smiling.

"I was just talking to Mrs Phillips, you know, about Lizzy here," Mrs Bennet said, pausing for breath. "And we both wanted to let you know how happy we are that Lizzy is finally getting married after, after such a strain."

"A strain, Madam?"

"Well you should know that Lizzy did reject another – and we were all in such a state! It would have fixed everything! But it has turned out for the best, you know, you are so much more illustrious, so much better situated!"

"Why, thank you, Mrs Bennet," said Darcy without a single hint of sarcasm, although Elizabeth new that he was mortified.

Elizabeth was blushing as much as it was possible for a human to do. Her entire face had gone red. Darcy tightened his arm around hers.

Elizabeth saw a means of escape and called over to Mrs Long, who was standing and waiting for an opportunity to enter the conversation. "Mrs Long," she called. "Mrs Long. Why do not you and Mama sit a little? Why, you have been standing a very long while."

Normally Darcy would have been amused at Elizabeth's subtle way of trying to dissuade her mother, but he was still very shocked by the newfound discovery that Elizabeth had been proposed to by someone else.

"Why, Lizzy, how thoughtful of you," said Mrs Bennet. She took Mrs Long's arm and went to a settee, where they both sat down and started to gossip.

Elizabeth blinked very slowly, and looked up at Darcy. "I am so sorry," she said, and then almost to herself, said with a sad smile, "as I always am with mother."

Elizabeth's look of absolute shame snapped Darcy back and he smiled at her, and drew her in as closely as acceptable in public, perhaps even too closely. Elizabeth wanted nothing more than to embrace him, and to be held – but propriety had to be observed.

"It's quite alright, Lizzy, you do not have to be ashamed."

"I will miss Papa and Jane, but I have to tell you that I cannot wait to be away, with you."

"It will be wonderful," he replied, grinning at her.

"So," he said. "Who else proposed to you?"

Elizabeth laughed. "Oh, Mr Collins, actually."

Darcy's look of utter astonishment sent Elizabeth into gales of laughter, turning quite a few heads her way.

" _He_ proposed?"

Elizabeth was still laughing uncontrollably.

"That, that, that, that _man?_ " said Darcy, almost to himself. "Why, of all the inconceivable things!"

Tears were starting to roll down Elizabeth's cheeks she was laughing so much. Darcy looked like a stricken puppy, before saying again, " _He_ proposed?"

Elizabeth took a few moments to calm herself down, before replying, "Yes, unluckily for me. Although I was mortified out of good sense I was still quite amused," whispered Elizabeth, still laughing. Darcy seemed to visibly calm. "God, I wonder what he said!" Muttered Darcy to himself.

"Quite a lot, actually," answered his fiancé. "For the sake of preserving some of his dignity I will say only this: compared to his, your first proposal was incredibly flattering and romantic."

"That bad, was it?" Asked Darcy, chuckling.

"Oh yes," said Elizabeth happily. "Horrible actually."

"I have to say I am relieved."

"Why?" Elizabeth asked.

"I thought it might – that it might have been Wickham."

Elizabeth started. "Oh goodness, no," she said. "I was a fool for ever looking twice. I was never in love with him, despite what you might hear in the future from my mother, or from Lydia. He has disgusted me for a long time."

It was an uncomfortable topic. Darcy looked at the floor.

"Listen to me," said Elizabeth. "You are the only man whom I have ever loved, and I have never respected anyone as much as I do you. Never. You have to understand that, no matter what you might hear. You know that some ladies in this town like to make up stories."

"Yes, I do," he replied softly, and led her out of the main parlour into one of the curtained off areas. Once they were out of site of the other guests Darcy quickly embraced her, and they held each other behind the curtain.

"I love you, Elizabeth," he said.

"I love you too, Will," she replied.

There was a silence, before Elizabeth asked, "Was your father's Christian name George?"

"Yes, it was. How did you know?"

"My tried and true powers of discernment," she replied with a twinkle in her eye.

"Oh yes, very tried and true," he murmured, smiling, before he felt Elizabeth kiss him. He was surprised but by no means anything but happy, and he kissed her back.


	8. Dinner at Netherfield

Hello everyone!

I would like to thank everyone who has been following my story so far - I know it has only been a day but we're off to a good start!

A big thank you to everyone who left reviews - they were lovely :) I really appreciate the reviews (even if they are constructive) so please keep them coming! Also if you have any ideas I would love to hear them.

I was thinking somewhere along the line to do a couple of chapters focusing on bonding time between Elizabeth and her younger sisters, and maybe some conversations between them and Darcy as well? I am also going to do the classic Kitty-Georgiana friendship thing, so prepare yourselves!

Anyway, without any further ado, here is the next chapter! :)

* * *

The long-awaited weddings were but one week away, and the Bennets, Bingleys, Hursts, and Mr Darcy were all sitting in one of Netherfield's largest parlours, awaiting dinner. Mr Hurst was, as expected, sprawled on an armchair with his legs spread apart, snoring very loudly. Mrs Hurst was sitting, the pages of a book in her hand flipping every couple seconds as she pretended to read them. Bingley and Jane were sitting together in one corner of the room, talking quietly. Mary and Kitty were talking together next to Jane and Bingley. Mrs Bennet was talking at Miss Bingley while Miss Bingley openly scowled at Elizabeth. Elizabeth was sitting next to Darcy on a settee next to the fireplace, pointing passionately at a quote in the book in her lap. She and Darcy were very aggressively discussing 'Medea'. Mr Bennet was observing at his favourite daughter and her betrothed.

"It is not so," Elizabeth countered. "The chorus are on Medea's side of the argument."

"It is so. There are points in the play in which the chorus takes the side of Jason."

"They do not take the side of Jason. What of the point in the play when Medea informs the chorus of her plans to kill Glauce, and Jason too? The chorus promises not to judge her, even though what she planned to do would have brought her death had she been caught."

"They take the side of Medea in the beginning of the play, but throughout the play they begin to turn from her. When Medea is contemplating killing her sons, they are entirely against her."

"But didn't get involved!"

"The chorus never got involved in any Greek Tragedy! Their purpose was a cross between narrating and conversing with the characters, but nothing the chorus ever did interfered with the events of the play."

"The chorus never take the side of Jason."

"They do at the end of the play."

"No. No they do not. Just because they are not on Medea's side anymore because she goes insane does not mean they are on Jason's side. It means they are on the side of what the audience would have considered right. When Medea is abandoned and alone the chorus invokes pity for her by taking her side, which is what the audience would have experienced. However, when Medea starts to contemplate killing her children the chorus are horrified, just as the audience would have been."

"So they do not take the side of Medea, they take the side of the audience."

"Yes."

"But," Darcy said, his mouth quirking up in a little smile. "That is not what you said at the beginning."

Elizabeth stopped, frowning. "So we were both wrong."

"It seems so," replied Darcy, his smile becoming wider.

Elizabeth just looked at him, and he at her, for a few moments, before Elizabeth suddenly burst out laughing. Darcy was grinning, and they he started laughing too.

Miss Bingley's scowl deepened, before it quickly cleared and she said, "Miss Eliza, what are you discussing with Mr Darcy? I do wish to know about it. Mr Darcy, why do you not tell me?"

Mr Darcy sighed, though only Elizabeth could tell. "We are discussing Medea, Miss Bingley. Do you know of the play?"

"Oh yes, of course! It is an Ancient Greek tragedy, written by the great Sophocles," Miss Bingley said grandly, pronouncing the poor Greek play-write 'Sophocols'. Miss Bingley continued. "Sophocles was very clever in his writings; do you not think?" Miss Bingley's remark, smug as ever, caused Darcy to smile to himself. He really couldn't believe she ever entertained the belief that he would marry her.

"Oh yes, Miss Bingley," answered Elizabeth. "Sopho _cles_ was a great play-write. However, Medea is Euripides' masterpiece."

"Are you quite sure, Miss Bennet?" Said Miss Bingley, her voice dripping with contempt.

"Yes, Miss Bingley," Elizabeth answered. "It is on the cover of this edition, look."

Elizabeth rose from her place on the settee and handed the book to Miss Bingley. Utterly mortified, Miss Bingley was saved from replying when the housekeeper came and announced dinner. Mr Bingley offered his arm to Jane and to Mary, and walked into the dining room. Mr Bennet gave his arm to his wife and to the humiliated Miss Bingley, and walked into the dining room. Mr Hurst, alert once he heard the mention of food, offered his arm to Mrs Hurst, and surprisingly, to Kitty. That left Elizabeth and Darcy alone in the drawing room. Elizabeth went to the copy of Euripides plays lying on Miss Bingley's chair, picked it up, and put it back in its place on the shelf. Darcy walked over to her, offered his arm, and together they walked into the dining hall, sitting down in the two remaining seats, which were, thankfully, next to each other. One was next to Miss Bingley, and the other next to Mary. Without hesitation, Elizabeth took the seat next to Miss Bingley, earning her a very subtle, grateful smile from Darcy as he took the seat next to her. Dinner was a decidedly pleasant affair, even with Miss Bingley's simpers and sneers. Mrs Bennet had decided to tell stories of when Elizabeth and Jane were little, much to the delight of their respective fiancés.

"And Lizzy never did like needlework, she wanted to do arithmetic and play outside, much my chagrin. Her father always seemed to delight in it, though," Mrs Bennet continued.

"As do I," Darcy added, smiling at Elizabeth. Miss Bingley started, and Mr Bennet shot Darcy an approving look. Elizabeth simply smiled back at him, and gave his hand a gentle squeeze under the table. Mrs Bennet, having to reconstruct what she was about to say in view of the most recent comment, said, "Yes, well. Lizzy is frightfully clever, Mr Darcy, and I am certain that she has grown out of all of her stubborn nonsense by now."

"You would think," chimed in Mr Bennet. "However, I believe that this particular side of Lizzy is starting to rub off on even Jane."

"Oh no, Mr Bennet, that cannot be so!" His lady adamantly stressed. "Jane is all goodness, all of the time, let us hope that she has rubbed off on Lizzy!"

Elizabeth blushed, her lips pursed into a cousin of a smile, and raised her eyebrows at Darcy. He was trying, but quite unsuccessfully, not to laugh. Eventually the whole table was laughing, albeit insincerely in Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst's case.

"I have been long aware of your cleverness, Miss Elizabeth, but what of this accusation of stubbornness? I have not seen so much as a stubborn look from you in all of our acquaintance."

Darcy raised an eyebrow at her, pleased with himself. Elizabeth raised one of her own, before laughing again.

"You, sir," she said, "Are incorrigible!"


	9. At an Impasse, At Longbourn

Hello everyone!

This is a short chapter but I enjoyed writing it all the same. Please review!

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Mary Bennet was sitting by herself on the settee, pretending to read her book. She did feel awfully terrible about eavesdropping, but what if Lizzy and Mr Darcy were speaking of something _immoral?_ She had seen the way Lizzy looked at her fiancé, and nothing about it was proper. In any way, shape, or form. Not in the slightest. _That_ expression was definitely not a respectable one. Not respectable at all. Whenever Mr Darcy was around Lizzy's eyes brightened, and became more intense, as if absorbing every detail. Mary had also observed the slight ways Mr Darcy made his affection known when Elizabeth was around, such as the softening of his mouth when she spoke, or was spoken of. Like the relaxation of the muscles in his face when they were conversing. Like how he always seemed more at ease in her presence. Elizabeth said something; something Mary wasn't paying attention to, but her attention was brought back to the couple by Lizzy's wide, sparkling eyes and her smile, and Mr Darcy's darkened ones. He gently took her hand. Mary was paying full attention now.

"I am sorry," Lizzy said quietly. "I would not wish this on you. My family's behaviour, their constant interrogations, the way they view our engagement."

"Do not think on it, Lizzy," he said gently. "I can deal with anything, so long as it is with you."

Elizabeth smiled at him lovingly. "I cannot wait to be away with you," she said, raising her eyebrows.

Mary almost dropped her book.

"It will be wonderful," Darcy replied, his eyes darkening again.

"Oh yes, it will! For once you have grown tired of your tolerable wife, your many material possessions shall keep me quite satisfied."

"You little tease!" Darcy grinned. "I could never tire of you, Elizabeth. He paused, smiling at her. "You are my best friend."

Elizabeth was speechless, and just looked at him for a long while. "Mama," she said finally, very quietly. "May Mr Darcy and I walk to the mount?"

"Oh of course, Lizzy! Remember, dearest child, not to run your mouth!"

Mr Darcy offered Elizabeth his arm and together they walked out. Mary straightened, picked up her book and went to the upstairs window to see them. They were not walking to the mount at all, but were in that little wilderness. Lizzy turned to face Mr Darcy, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

Kissed him.

Lizzy was kissing Mr Darcy. The impropriety of it all! She simply could not condone it. She would have to tell Papa. Yes, that is what she would do. Mary started to turn to face the door, but something stopped her. Darcy was stroking Lizzy's cheek, and their foreheads were almost touching. Slowly, but as one, they embraced, and held each other, her head against his chest and his cheek pressed against her head.

They continued to hold one another, and something stirred in Mary. She decided not to go and tell Papa, for to be held thus would not be at all unwelcome to her, either.


	10. After the Wedding

Hello everyone! I am so sorry that this took so long - I had a very time-consuming English assignment that needed to be finished. Anyway, thank you again and again for all your lovely reviews; please keep them coming! I love hearing your ideas and what you think of my story.

For those of you who wanted to see Elizabeth tell Darcy that they are going to have a baby (there were a few!), do not worry! I definitely will write that chapter, but that will come later. First they have to adjust to life as newlyweds!

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Spirits of the neighbourhood were at an all-time high when the new Mrs Bingley and the new Mrs Darcy entered the beautifully decorated phaetons outside Longbourn House with their husbands. To the good wishes and joyful cries of all in attendance, the phaetons drove off towards Netherfield, where Jane and Bingley were to spend their first night as husband and wife. Elizabeth and Darcy were to change to Darcy's Barouche, in which they were to travel to Darcy House in Town. All of Darcy's clothes and Elizabeth's trousseau, for which Mr Bennet had insisted on paying much more that Elizabeth thought necessary, had already been taken to Town, and arranged in the rooms.

It was at Netherfield that the sisters and friends were to say their goodbyes.

Darcy and Bingley handed their respective wives out of the phaetons, both sisters removing their bonnets, and Elizabeth saw the Barouche, ornamented on the side with the Darcy crest. It suddenly hit her with more force than ever: she was Mrs Darcy now. She was the wife of the man that she loved beyond her own life, and would have an entire lifetime to know him and share with him, and raise a family. Looking over at Jane, though, the sadness came. She would have to say goodbye to Jane, and leave behind their closeness. They would always be intimate, but gone were the late-night conversations and the level of confidence they had previously shared. Elizabeth looked at her sister, and saw the same understanding reflected in Jane's eyes. Never did either sister feel that they loved the other more than in that moment, and without thinking Elizabeth ran into Jane's arms.

The two sisters embraced each other so tightly that both thought the other might break. Elizabeth took Jane's face in her hands and kissed her once on each cheek, and then rested her head on Jane's shoulder as she had when they were younger. Jane clutched her sister, stroking her hair, and gave a soft, gentle kiss to the top of her head. Jane brought Elizabeth's face off her shoulder and lovingly put her hand on the side of her cheek, and Elizabeth leaned into it. Jane had silent tears had running down her cheek, and Elizabeth wiped them away, before wiping away her own.

Bingley tried to go over to comfort them, but Darcy put a hand on his arm. "Leave them, Bingley, let them be." Bingley looked at them sadly.

"I do not wish to separate them," he said. "Look at them."

Darcy nodded, and said, "Nor do I. Thankfully, though, they will not be separated long. You are to come to Pemberley for Christmas. And you know, of course, you are always, always welcome at Pemberley, and in Town, whenever it is convenient for you."

Bingley smiled. "Thank you, Darcy, the same applies."

The two men turned to each other and shook hands, before, surprising Bingley, Darcy pulled him into a hug. Bingley returned it with all his strength, touched at the gesture.

"Thank you, Bingley," Darcy said softly.

"For what, man?"

"For ever taking a house in Hertfordshire," Darcy replied, smiling. It was the most grateful smile Bingley had ever seen.

Elizabeth finally pulled away from Jane, and took her hands. "I love you, dearest Jane," she said, smiling.

"I love you too, Lizzy," she replied, and kissed Elizabeth on the cheek. "Go now," she then said. "Go with your husband. Be happy, Lizzy, for you are very lucky."

Elizabeth looked over at Darcy, and new no greater truth had ever been spoken. "I shall," she said, smiling. "You are very lucky as well, dearest, dearest Jane. And so is Bingley."

Jane smiled, and looked over at Bingley. Elizabeth then went over to him, and said, "Goodbye, sir. I know you shall be very happy."

"I shall, Lizzy. My angel is with me now!"

"Take good care of her," Elizabeth whispered, and kissed his cheek.

While this adieu was taking place Jane had made her way over to Darcy, and had taken his hand.

"I just wanted to say thank you, sir," she said.

"Why Jane, whatever for?"

"I have never seen my sister half as happy, and I know it is all because of you. She loves you so very much, so much, I – thank you for loving her too, as much as you do."

Jane smiled at him, tears in her eyes. Darcy took her other hand.

"It is my privilege to love Elizabeth."

Jane smiled, and squeezed his hands. "Thank you, Mr Darcy, for my sister's happiness."

"Fitzwilliam; please. We are brother and sister, you know."

"Fitzwilliam." Jane smiled. "I wish you every happiness, although I know it to be unnecessary."

Darcy smiled. "Thank you, dear Jane. I too, wish you every happiness."

Jane kissed his cheek, and walked over to Bingley, Elizabeth following suit and walking over to Darcy. Darcy looked down at her with so much love she thought her heart would burst, and he said, "Are you ready to leave?"

Elizabeth took his hand. "Yes, Fitzwilliam," she replied. "I am."

They walked together over to the carriage, and Darcy handed Elizabeth in, before getting in himself. As it pulled out of the gates both couples waved to each other, before Bingley took Jane's hand, and they walked inside to spend their first day together as husband and wife.

In the carriage, Darcy said, "You shall see your sister again soon, Elizabeth, I promise. Both she and Bingley may visit whenever they please; they know that. And of course we may visit them too."

Elizabeth took his hand, and said, "Thank you." There was a pause, and then she added, "but I must say I very much like being alone with you."

It then dawned on the both of them that this was the first time they had ever been truly alone together. No chaperones to watch for, no feeling like a culprit after sharing an embrace. They were husband and wife. They could do as they pleased, and nobody was going to stop them.

Elizabeth and Darcy looked at each other, and then Elizabeth kissed him. His arms were immediately around her and he pulled her onto his lap. She wound her arms around his neck as the kiss deepened.

When, out of breath they pulled away, Elizabeth laid her head on Darcy's shoulder and wound her arms around his middle. Darcy held her in his lap, his arms around her shoulders and waist, and rested his cheek on her head. Elizabeth gradually fell asleep to the rocking of the carriage, Darcy soon after following suit.

When they awoke, the light had changed, and Elizabeth moved off Darcy's lap to stretch.

"Goodness," she said. "There is so much room in here! I can stretch my legs straight out."

"I am never more comfortable travelling than I am in the Barouche. It is very easy to sleep in, if sleeping in a carriage is required."

"I found it so," Elizabeth grinned, raising one eyebrow at her husband. "How long have we been traveling?"

"About three hours," Darcy replied. "We shall stop at an inn for luncheon, if it pleases you."

"Oh, yes please," Elizabeth answered, laughing. "I did not eat much at the Wedding Breakfast."

"Nor did I. I enviously watched everyone else eat, though, while I was told some ridiculous things."

"Oh?" Elizabeth said. "Do tell."

"Sir William Lucas congratulated me on carrying away the 'finest jewel in the country'," Darcy said, in quite a good imitation. Elizabeth laughed heartily.

"Mr Collins also talked to me; for twenty minutes, I think it was."

"I am sorry," Elizabeth laughed. "Well, you are not the only one that suffered, I assure you. Mrs Phillips and Mama would not stop giving me advice on how to be a meek and docile wife."

"Meek and docile? You? Never!" Exclaimed Darcy, grinning at her. They both laughed again.

"You would not wish me so, Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth said, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I would not. I would not change a thing about you."

Elizabeth kissed him again, and all thoughts of the Wedding Breakfast abandoned the couple.

At around two o clock in the afternoon they stopped at the inn, one Darcy regularly stayed at when on that particular road, and ate a lot, before continuing on the second half of their journey. They slept, talked, laughed, and held hands. By the time they reached Darcy house, it was almost eight-thirty at night.

Elizabeth looked out of the window of the carriage and saw an enormous town house, immaculately kept. One of the footmen dismounted the back of the carriage and promptly went inside. It was some minutes before he came back, and when he did the other footman dismounted and opened the door. Darcy exited first, and then handed Elizabeth out.

"Welcome back, sir," said the footman who had just opened the door.

"Thank you, Jameson," answered Darcy. He offered his arm to Elizabeth, who was still looking up at the townhouse. "Welcome to Darcy House, Elizabeth," Darcy said softly. "Home away from home," was quietly added with a smile.

They ascended the steps and went into the entrance hall, where a line of six very sharply dressed servants stood in a row.

"Welcome back, Master," said the oldest, a woman in her mid-forties.

"Thank you, Mrs Bowers."

He then addressed the group as a whole, and said, "I present to you Mrs Elizabeth Darcy."

All the servants either bowed or curtsied, not one of them missing the change in the Master's voice when he said the name of the Mistress.

"Elizabeth," Darcy then said, turning to her. "These are the principle staff of Darcy House. This is Mrs Bowers, the housekeeper."

Mrs Bowers curtsied, and said, "Welcome to Darcy House, Mistress."

Darcy continued. He introduced the remaining as Mr Hale, the butler, Mr Gordon, the steward, Madame Reldiér, the head chef, and Mr Kenbridge, Darcy's personal valet. They all welcomed and wished her happiness. The last person he introduced was a woman who could not have been more than eighteen.

"This is Mademoiselle Dupris, your personal ladies' maid."

Mademoiselle Dupris curtsied, and said in a very French accent. "It is an honour to be serving you, Madame Darcy. My Aunt was used to be waiting on Lady Anne, and it is happy for me to be continuing the tradition of service to this family."

"Thank you, Mademoiselle Dupris. Your loyalty is much appreciated," Elizabeth smiled at her.

Darcy looked at her with happiness. He saw how overwhelmed she was when they first entered the house, but she was handling herself excellently, and Darcy was very proud of her.

"I shall give Mrs Darcy a tour of the house, if that does not interfere with dinner."

"Not at all, sir," answered Mrs Bowers. "Shall an hour be sufficient?"

"More than, Mrs Bowers. Thank you," replied Darcy.

"I shall ring when I need you, Mademoiselle Dupris?" Elizabeth asked, smiling at her.

"Please, Madame. Also, if it pleases you to call me Dupris. Tis much short and easier for you."

"Thank you, Dupris," replied Elizabeth. She quite liked Dupris. The girl had a spark in her eye and was self-assured. It was obvious that her English was not her French, but Elizabeth didn't mind a bit.

As Darcy led her away, she said, "I like Dupris."

"I thought you might," he replied, smiling. "She came from her training very highly recommended, and when I interviewed her she was very confident."

They continued to walk along the main corridor, Darcy pointing out what was in each room. He showed her everything, from both of their studies, the different parlours, the library, and the guestrooms, to the doors to the servants' quarters and the kitchens. There was even a ballroom. Darcy had refurbished Elizabeth's private parlour, and she was delighted with his taste, as she was in all the other aspects of the house. It was obvious that everything was very expensive, but rather than being gaudy or ostentatious, it was elegant instead.

Finally, they came to the last room, which was the master suite. Set into the end of a large corridor on the third floor, two large, matching doors were set. Darcy opened the one on the right, and Elizabeth stepped into a large room. It had its entrance on the left side, a fireplace set into one wall, and a very large, four-poster bed at the end, set partly into the wall. There were two bed-side tables, and two shelves set into each wall either side of the bed. There was a very large chest at the end of the bed, and across from it there was a plush sofa, an armchair, two other chairs, and a table. There was also a writing desk with a chair, and Elizabeth saw that her letter box and other stationery items had already been set up on it. There were also vases of white flowers, and they smelled divine. Elizabeth loved the colours of the room. The wood was a beautiful oak, and the bedcoverings, curtains and other material were a mix of different shades of gold, different shades of turquoise, and white. On one side of the room was an oak sliding door, and on the opposite side a set of double doors, which Darcy told her over to.

"I believed a refurbishment was in order, considering the room had not been used in a long time. Please feel free to change anything that you do not like," he said, gently. "The Master Suite at Pemberley is almost exactly the same. Your changes can be implemented there before we arrive."

Elizabeth looked at him, a little overwhelmed. She was standing in her new bedroom, with her new husband. Darcy was aware of her feelings, and slowly took her hand. Elizabeth grasped his back and said, "I would not change anything. It is a beautiful room, Fitzwilliam. Your taste is impeccable." She looked around again, and smiled. "I really like the colours."

Darcy then led her over to the double doors, and opened them.

"This door leads to your wardrobes and your bathroom. It can be locked from the inside."

Elizabeth opened the door to her wardrobe and was shocked at the size. The doors opened out to reveal shelves and racks brimming with finery. Off to one side was another door that led to the bathroom. "It is enormous!" She breathed. She saw now why Darcy had insisted on such a number of clothes. How else was this space to be filled? Elizabeth saw that all of the items in her trousseau were already put away, gowns hanging and shoes in neat little rows on shelves. There was a very large dressing table, and laid out on it were hairbrushes, combs and pins, and other small items. There was a large set of drawers Elizabeth assumed held underwear, and a shelf of stacked hatboxes. Darcy then led her over to a large chest sitting atop a shelf. He opened it, and Elizabeth gasped. Inside was the most exquisite jewellery she had ever seen.

"These are the Darcy family jewels," Darcy said quietly. "Some of them are centuries old. Others much newer; this one was my mother's." Darcy fingered a delicate emerald encased in gold filigree.

"I wish I could have known her," Elizabeth said softly.

"So do I," whispered Darcy, and suddenly wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and buried his face in her shoulder. Elizabeth turned around so she could embrace him properly, and they held each other for what seemed like a long while. Darcy finally released her, and said, "The jewels are yours to wear as you wish. You may add any of your jewels to the collection, of course. Most of my mother's is in this chest, but some of her favourite items she left to Georgiana."

"I am very excited to get to know Georgiana better, Fitzwilliam."

Darcy beamed. "Good," he said. Darcy then showed Elizabeth out of the wardrobe and to the sliding door on the other side of the room.

"This is my chamber," he said, and easily pushed the door open.

They walked into a room that Elizabeth thought was perfectly suited to its inhabitant. The coverings and curtains were extremely plush, and the colours were a strong gold, burgundy, and deep forest green. The layout of Darcy's chamber basically mirrored Elizabeth's, with the wardrobe and the furniture in the same places. There was a painting above the mantelpiece, in a mahogany frame. It depicted a forest, complete with babbling brooks and wild deer.

"I like your room, Fitzwilliam." Elizabeth said, smiling at him. "It suits you."

Darcy smiled back.

Elizabeth left Darcy to change, and called Dupris up to help her out of her dress. Elizabeth chose to wear her favourite dress of the trousseau. A dark teal with gold trims and a plunging neckline, it suited Elizabeth perfectly. She found, amidst the jewels, a gold necklace and earing set, and wore those as well. Darcy met her outside both of their chambers, dressed for dinner. He looked dreadfully handsome, and Elizabeth told him so. Darcy blushed a little, which surprised Elizabeth.

"Why do you blush, Fitzwilliam?" She said, smiling. "Surely you know how handsome you are?"

Darcy blushed even more, and said, "You must remember, vanity is a failing indeed."

"Oh yes," said Elizabeth, laughing and winding her arm through his. "But was it not you yourself that said; when a real superiority of mind, or in this case appearance, pride must always be under good regulation?"

"Why, you little tease!" Darcy said laughingly, pulling her closer as they descended the stairs.

"You knew that before you married me, William."

"I did, and I love you for it," he said, smiling at her. He then stopped smiling, but his eyes were as expressive as ever as he looked at her. Elizabeth understood his feelings, and it made her heartbeat quicken. She so wanted to be his wife, in every way, but she was still tentative about that which she did not know.

Dinner was served, and it was wonderful. Selections of roast meats and vegetables, jellies and soups added life to the table, and everything tasted exquisite. They talked, but it was clear neither was focusing on the conversation. When they had finished eating, they could think of nothing but the night ahead of them.

Elizabeth decided that she would be the one to rise first, and putting her napkin on the table after the conclusion of the meal, rose.

"I am ready to retire, now," she said softly, smiling at him. He rose as well, and instead of offering his arm, as was customary, offered his hand.

Elizabeth looked at it and was immediately moved, as she understood what the gesture meant. He had offered her his hand, and in doing so offered her equality in this night in which would truly begin their marriage. They would ascend the stairs equally, instead of one leaning on the other. She was touched beyond words, and put her hand into his, strengthening her grip as they looked into each other's eyes. Elizabeth brought his hand up to her lips and kissed it, and Darcy felt his heartrate quicken. Together they walked up the grand staircase to the hallway at the end of which the master chambers were situated. When they reached the doors, Elizabeth turned to Darcy and said,

"Twenty minutes?"

Darcy nodded and smiled, before pressing a kiss to her hand. They both went inside their respective doors, then, and Elizabeth called for Dupris. Dressing in a nightgown that her Aunt Gardiner had deemed very pretty and she had deemed very inappropriate, she let her hair fall loosely over her shoulders and sat on one of the armchairs to wait.

"Thank you, Dupris," she said, smiling at the girl. "You may go now."

"You are not in needing of anything else, Madame?"

"No, thank you. Also tomorrow, I shall call you when I need you; there is no need to come before that."

Dupris smiled and said, "Of course, Madame."

Dupris stoked the fire a little, and bustled out of the room. A few minutes passed before Elizabeth heard a knock on the sliding door. She took a breath, stood up, and said,

"Come in."

Darcy walked into the room, and Elizabeth felt a pull in her breast. Her husband stood before her in his nightclothes, and she thought he was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen. She felt herself shamelessly looking at him; and even though a small part of her was remembering twenty years of maidenly modesty, being here with him, in these private garments, in their private rooms, felt so _right_.

When Darcy walked into the room and saw Elizabeth, he was dangerously close to tears at the picture she made. She was here, in his – no, _their_ home, and she was standing before him in _their_ private chambers, with her hair, her beautiful curly hair cascading down her shoulders and her back. His eyes went dark as he took her in, and he felt his heartrate quicken.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered.

"So are you," she answered softly, before walking up to him and running her hand slowly through his hair. His breath caught, and he held her hand at his cheek, leaning into it. Darcy then pressed a long kiss to her palm, and Elizabeth felt her heartrate quicken. She felt his hot breath on her hand, and the feeling it gave her, oh! She feverishly wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. He responded immediately, and pulled her body to his, running his hands down her arms, down her back, pushing the sleeves of her nightgown off her shoulders. Elizabeth gasped, exhilarated by Darcy's attentions, and without thinking pushed his robe of his shoulders. Darcy moaned, feeling her hands on his bare skin. They stopped for breath, and Darcy, breathing heavily, slowly pulled the cord of Elizabeth's nightgown. She gasped again as the whole thing came down, and Darcy looked at her, his eyes wide with desire. He looked up and met her eyes, and they held each other's gaze for what seemed like a long while before Darcy pulled her to him again and kissed her passionately. They felt, in in more ways than one, and lost themselves in the joy of finally being able to express what they had dampened during their engagement. The kisses deepened, and the haze thickened, and suddenly Elizabeth felt Darcy frantically pull away, his eyes asking the unspoken question. In answer, she pressed herself against him and kissed him again, and she suddenly felt herself being lifted up into Darcy's arms, and heard his laugh in between kisses. Elizabeth said one thing.

"Fitzwilliam, take me to bed."

Elizabeth woke to the gentle rising and falling of her husband's chest. Darcy was still asleep, and Elizabeth marvelled at how his countenance changed in slumber. He seemed his age for once; the burdens of the world erased from his face, and an almost boyish look gracing his features. Elizabeth was surprised to find herself with an arm flung across her husband's chest, and a leg wrapped around his. She was extremely comfortable, but still blushed despite herself. One of his arms was securely around her, holding her to him, and his other hand was atop her own, resting on his chest. Elizabeth wrapped herself a little more tightly around Darcy and closed her eyes again. Their wedding night was everything that she could have hoped for. She had never felt, in her heart, closer to another person, and it made the already overwhelming love she felt for Darcy increase, and solidify. He was beautiful, and he made her feel beautiful, and together they had shared something wonderful.

Elizabeth felt Darcy's arm tighten around her, and then his lips pressing a kiss to her forehead. She opened her eyes and looked up at her husband. She found him looking at her with the most tender expression she had ever witnessed.

"Good morning, Elizabeth," he said softly, never taking his eyes from hers.

"It is a wonderful morning," she replied, smiling, and in response Darcy kissed her. Elizabeth was delighted, and readily reciprocated, and both lost themselves in passion once again.


	11. A New Circle

Hello everyone! I am so sorry I have not updated in so long - I have been very busy, but I have not stopped writing! I have been doing my absolute best to write in chronological order, but I have so many chapters for two or three or ten years down the track in our favourite couple's lives. I would love to hear your thoughts on the next couple of chapters, so review please! I would also love to know whether you want me to just post all the chapters I have written, even if they are not in chronological order, and fill in the gaps as I write them?

Love you all, and happy reading!

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The third day of the marriage of Mr and Mrs Darcy dawned bright, and Elizabeth awoke as she had on the second; wrapped in the embrace of her husband. The breakfasted together in the dining room, and then Darcy proposed a walk. He knew that they had not left the house for two days together, and that Elizabeth was itching to be outside again.

"Oh, yes please," Elizabeth immediately responded. "I would love a walk. When shall we go?"

"Whenever you wish."

"Have you no business to attend to today?"

"No, no. Mr Gordon is taking care of our affairs for a few days. Surely you could not expect me to be locked in my study and leave you all alone!"

It was said as a tease, but Elizabeth knew he was perfectly serious.

"Of course not," she replied earnestly, taking his hand. "But you will let me help you if I can in any way, like you said at Longbourn?"

Darcy squeezed her hand. "Of course I will. I will always share with you, Elizabeth, I will always be honest with you. No matter how tedious my business is I swear from this day forth," he said dramatically, putting a hand to his heart, "that _you_ will always be a part of it."

She laughed her merry laugh but was immensely pleased. They finished breakfast together and moved to the library, where a footman brought in the paper, and after handing it to Darcy, bowed, and left. Darcy opened it, but found his eyes drawn to Elizabeth, who was still scanning the shelves in search for a book. He was suddenly overwhelmed that she was here with him, and that they were married and happy after a year of anguish and longing. Darcy suddenly put down the paper and walked over to Elizabeth, wrapping his arms around her from behind. She was delighted, and turned in his embrace to hold him back. He held her waist with one hand and her head to his heart with the other, and Elizabeth nestled into him.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Elizabeth pulled away a little, looking at him quizzically. "Whatever for?"

Darcy's expression did not change, and Elizabeth matched the intensity of his gaze.

"For marrying me," he replied, simply.

Elizabeth looked at him in surprise, and then shook her head. "No," she said softly. "Do not say that again."

She saw Darcy about to protest and put a finger to his lips. She continued. "Please, never thank me for marrying you. It is not _you_ who is blessed beyond belief by our union. I am grateful every day, every day since the day we became engaged, that by some miracle I was allowed another chance with you. If you want to thank somebody, thank yourself. I married you because I think that you are the most beautiful man I have ever known, and because I love you, very, very much."

Darcy kissed the finger at his lips, before Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him properly. The pulled apart, and walked to the settee together. Darcy sat and opened the newspaper, and Elizabeth sat next to him with her head on his shoulder, opening one of the books on the side table. They sat in peaceful companionship until Darcy loudly scoffed at the newspaper. Elizabeth turned her head and said, smiling, "What on Earth provoked that response?"

"The society column," Darcy replied disdainfully. "There is a new scandal every week in London."

Elizabeth sat up and looked at the paper in Darcy's hands. "Tell me about it," she said suddenly.

"What do you mean?" He asked, looking at her.

"Tell me about the circle that you have brought me into. I know very little of the people you would know, and I do not want to appear clueless when I meet them," Elizabeth replied resolutely.

Darcy nodded, smiling. "Of course. It will take time, though; there is a great deal of content."

"Start with the society column," said Elizabeth. "Tell me what you scoffed at so, and then go from there."

"Alright," Darcy said. He then proceeded to explain the situation of Lord Barker, who was engaged to young lady number four. His first wife had managed to annul their marriage on the grounds of unsuitable treatment two years after they wed, and after she had given birth to triplets. The second had disappeared about four years into their marriage, leaving her son and daughter with their father. The third wife had passed giving birth to quadruplets – two sets of identical twins, six years into the marriage, before which she had birthed another two children.

"We went to school together, at Eton," Darcy said. "He is almost penniless; he has lost most of his estate. He is two and forty and his betrothed is sixteen."

Elizabeth crinkled her nose and frowned. "She has money?"

"Oh yes, fifty thousand pounds."

"Two and forty, a title, eleven children, and a sixteen-year-old fiancé. Are there many marriages like this?"

"Unfortunately yes, but the lady usually has something to gain from it. For example, Barker's fiancé comes from trade, and he is an Earl, albeit a penniless one."

"How old are his children?"

"They are all of them under twelve."

"Goodness me!"

Darcy shrugged. "Lord Barker's situation itself is uncommon, but very few look at it with the level of peculiarity you believe it deserves."

Filling the hours until luncheon, Darcy educated Elizabeth on the people she should expect to meet. There were a great many, and Elizabeth's head was whirring by the time they exited the library.

"Are you sure you do not want to take a phaeton to the park? It is winter, you know."

"I know it is winter. Hyde Park is not very far from here, is it?"

"Not two miles, but –"

"You are not afraid of a little snow, are you?" Elizabeth asked, impishly.

Darcy grinned at her. "Not in the least."

"Well, then?"

Darcy was still grinning, and offered Elizabeth his arm. Elizabeth took it, and together they left the Darcy town house for Hyde Park.


	12. A Conversation Between Maids

Dupris and Gup, another maid who was assisting with the task, were folding gowns into trunks for the mistress. She and the master were to depart tomorrow for Pemberley, and were at this moment paying their final calls to friends before leaving.

"I'll be sorry to see the mistress go," Gup said to Dupris. "I hadn't expected her to be so nice!"

"Yes," said Dupris. "She is all of the time smiling. I am glad of my position, and that I am go with her."

"You're lucky, Fran. It'll be so boring around here without the master and the new mistress."

"But you will be having much time off, no?"

"The house is always kept in immaculate condition, even when the family are from home."

Dupris looked back down at the gown she was folding. It was beautiful, intricately beaded with pale violet and cream.

"Are you excited to go to Pemberley? You 'aven't seen it yet, and I bet there ain't many houses half so fine!"

"Oh, yes!" cried Dupris. "My aunt was being of service to Lady Anne before she pass, and when she come back to France she always telling me how beautiful Pemberley is. I cannot wait to see it!"

"Oh Fran, I wish I could see Pemberley."

"Mayhap be you transferred there."

"No, no. I am a housemaid, for cryin' out loud. A lowly one at that. I clean the floors and the rugs and such. I was born in London, and have never left it, and I never will. It's just the way things are."

"You know not that for certain," said Dupris. "You could travelling with the household someday."

"No, Fran. You say that because you been trained. You went to a fancy French academy that breeds personal maids for important ladies. You are Francois Dupris, for cryin' out loud. Your very name sounds as if it was meant to travel with the mistress. I am Bertha Gup. I stay here."

"If you think it, it shall be," said Dupris, continuing to fold the gowns. It was something she had heard the mistress say to the master yesterday when he was angry about a letter he had received. Dupris thought it sounded nice.

Gup finished and went off muttering. "If I think it, it shall be? What a load of hogwash."


	13. Of What Might Be Called Economy

Hello everyone!

I know it has been an inexcusably long time since I last updated, but sometimes real life gets in the way of the infinitely preferable world of FanFiction. I have not stopped writing, however. I have not abandoned you, truly. I have many chapters in store, and I will try to update as often as I can. I am going into exams, however, so you must forgive me if I do not update as often as I would like.

Love you all, and here is the next chapter!

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Elizabeth was about to hit the table when she realised just how very stupid that would be. She had ignored the first letter, and the second, but this was the third since her marriage to Darcy. It had not even been two months! Of course, she had known the letters were not going to stop; Lydia just would not be ignored. Elizabeth sighed. She knew she could not deny her sister so little of what she had so much. How hard would it be, to send forty pounds? She could just do it. No one would be the wiser. Except for herself, of course. She would be wise to the fact that she had consciously kept something of importance from her husband. She sat back in her chair, running a hand over her face. She knew she had two choices: She could send the money, and be done with it; or she could relate the substance of the letter to Darcy. But no, that would never do. She could not burden him with the Wickhams again. He had already done too much. It had to be the first choice, then. After all, her allowance was _her_ money, was it not? And Darcy had specifically stated that she do whatever she wished with _her_ money. She certainly did not need fifty pounds a month, but Lydia… Lydia had needed all the help she could get from the moment in which she had tied her life to George Wickham.

Elizabeth, finally resolved, went to the safe in the cabinet which sat in one corner of her study, and opened it. She counted out eight five-pound notes, and put them into an envelope. On the back, she wrote her sister's name, and the address Lydia had enclosed in her last letter. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, and Elizabeth was surprised to find that she quickly put the letter in a draw, a feeling of guilt suddenly threatening to choke her. Taken aback by the feeling, Elizabeth collected herself and said,

"Come in!"

Mrs Reynolds, cheerful as always, entered with a silver tray.

"Ah, Mrs Reynolds," said Elizabeth, smiling brightly at the housekeeper she had come to care for.

"Good afternoon, Mrs Darcy," Mrs Reynolds replied, returning the smile. "The Master called me and asked me to have this sent up to you. He regrets that his business correspondence will keep him longer than he expected."

Elizabeth nodded. This was not unexpected. He had spent so much time with her that she wondered how he managed his affairs at all. Now, it seemed, the workload was catching up with him.

"Thank you, Mrs Reynolds," Elizabeth said. "Please, set the tray here." Elizabeth cleared a space next to her and Mrs Reynolds sat the tray down.

"Will you be needing anything else, Madam?" She asked.

"No, thank you Mrs Reynolds."

Mrs Reynolds curtsied and left the room. Elizabeth looked to the tray that had been set before her. On it were a cup of hot-chocolate (Elizabeth's favourite drink), a yellow peony (Elizabeth's favourite flower), and a folded letter, with her name on the front.

The shame Elizabeth felt at seeing this obviously considered effort to please her nearly made her sick. That she had even considered deceiving this man, this man who loved her so much more than she knew she could ever deserve. She suddenly had tears in her eyes. He had always been honest with her. Even in Kent, that dreadful first proposal was still honest. She suddenly realised with more force than ever that to Darcy, deception was the worst of all sins one could commit against him. And there, in her draw, sat a letter ready to be sent off to her foolhardy sister with forty pounds of the money Darcy had said many times was _theirs_. With shaking hands, Elizabeth opened the letter on the tray, after taking a sip of the chocolate, which was infused with hazelnut – another of Elizabeth's favourites. Again, the shame threatened to crush her. He remembered everything – every little thing. Elizabeth looked to the letter, which read thus:

 _My darling,_

 _I am sorrier than you can imagine, having to neglect you until dinner. As you have probably garnered, I have been neglecting the affairs of our estates of late in order to spend more time with you – not one minute of which I will ever wish otherwise. However, it seems that business has caught up with me, and much of it requires my immediate attention. As we agreed on the third day of our marriage, I will acquaint you with every particular of the transactions, which I am sure will bore you, but for the sake of honesty and keeping a promise, you shall endure it, with grace, I am sure._

 _On a more exciting note, the peony on your tray has come from a delightful little bush of the flowers Mr Gordon discovered near his house. If you would like, we may go out tomorrow and plant some in an area of your choice, where I am sure they will blossom into a garden of yellow._

 _I love you, Elizabeth._

 _Fitzwilliam._

It was just before dinner, and Elizabeth was waiting outside the door to Darcy's study. She did not want to disturb him in his work, and so was anxious for him to open the door. After the events of the day, she was determined to talk to him He did, finally, and was delighted to see his wife waiting for him.

Elizabeth tried to smile, but it did not reach her eyes. Darcy frowned.

"Is something the matter?" He asked.

"There is something I would discuss with you."

"Of course," he replied, showing her inside.

Darcy sat back at his desk, and Elizabeth took one of the seats across from it.

"Please, tell me what is troubling you."

Elizabeth took a deep breath.

"I have today received the third letter from my sister Lydia since our marriage. She has asked for money in every letter. I ignored the first two but after receiving a third it became clear to me that she will not cease her requests." Elizabeth paused, and looked at Darcy, whose face had become more difficult to read with each passing sentence. "I had put the money from my allowance into an envelope, to send to her. I had decided not to tell you – I did not wish you to be burdened with them again. She is only sixteen, and she has yet to realise her folly. I would not have her living in poverty when I could do something to assist her situation. After all, she is still my sister."

Darcy's mouth had tightened, and then to his surprise, Elizabeth's eyes suddenly filled with tears.

"But then," she said, "after I had sealed the letter, Mrs Reynolds came in with the tray you sent, and…"

And Elizabeth broke down. Darcy watched her, a war of emotions inside him, each battling for precedence. Part of him wanted to wrap her in his arms and comfort her, and part was so disappointed that she would even consider being dishonest with him that he remained in the chair.

After Elizabeth's tears had subsided, she continued. "And I was so ashamed of myself. You – you have given me everything, and I was going to lie to you."

Darcy's lips curled downward ever so slightly, something that no one would have noticed but Elizabeth and Georgiana. When he spoke, his voice was monotone, without emotion. It was the lack of emotion that scared Elizabeth the most.

"Your allowance is your allowance. You may do with it what you wish. I am very surprised, though, and I must own to it, disheartened, that you would ever think you needed to conceal something from me. I thought that we had a deeper understanding than that."

"We do," came very quietly from Elizabeth.

Darcy looked at her. "Do we?"

Elizabeth sat up straighter. "Yes."

"Then tell me. How much were going to send?"

"She said she needed forty pounds*."

"Forty pounds?" Asked Darcy in a whisper, his head turning slightly to the side.

"Yes, sir."

Darcy turned his head very quickly towards her, and raised his eyebrows. "What did I say about that? I do not call you 'madam'."

"I apologise; the word escaped me."

And Mr Darcy laughed. Elizabeth would have been relieved to hear the sound had it not been more of a bark than a laugh. Darcy shook his head, and to Elizabeth's alarm abruptly rose from chair and started to pace about the room.

"Unbelievable," he said, throwing up his hands.

"What is it?"

Darcy suddenly stopped and Elizabeth was taken aback by the blaze in his eyes. "WICKHAM! The scoundrel hasn't done enough to my family, has he? I _already send them money_ , Elizabeth, and pay for his commissions so that Lydia is not destitute! And now, your sister writes to you again, requesting more!"

Elizabeth could not speak. She felt the tears on her cheeks again before she recognised what they were.

"You _what_?" she whispered.

"Do you really think I would allow anyone you love to suffer?" He cried. "I know how it hurts you that your sister eloped with one of the worst villains in England. Do you not think I would do everything in my power to alleviate that hurt?"

Darcy felt very alone in that moment. He was offended that Elizabeth should want to keep something from him, worried that he had done something to inspire it, angry at Wickham – his mind was in turmoil. He needed air.

To Elizabeth's astonishment and dismay, Darcy walked towards the door.

"Where are you going?" she asked, willing her voice not to waver.

"Riding."

"What about dinner?"

"Start without me."

And he was gone.

Elizabeth, shocked, sat for a moment. Then, remembering Georgiana and her wish of always appearing collected in front of the staff (brought on by her mother's opposite behaviour at Longbourn), she wiped her eyes, and looked in the mirror over the mantelpiece. A little red, yes, but she could attribute it to sitting near the fire. Determined to carry herself with dignity, she walked out the door of her husband's study and towards the drawing room. She heard music coming from the pianoforte there, and smiled as she saw the concentration on her new sister's face as she mastered a very difficult passage of Beethoven's. Elizabeth sat on the settee, listening, and clapped when Georgiana had finished. The girl blushed, and walked over to Elizabeth, sitting next to her.

"Fitzwilliam is not here?"

"He has gone riding."

"But it is getting dark!"

Elizabeth did not say anything, and just clasped her hands in front of her. Mrs Reynolds came in to announce dinner, and Elizabeth stood, a bemused Georgiana following her into the dining room.

"Shall I fetch the Master, Ma'am?"

"No," said Elizabeth in a voice that surprised Mrs Reynolds. It was monotone, dull; completely lacking in the vibrancy she had been accustomed to from the new Mistress. Elizabeth continued. "He has gone out riding. He said to start."

Mrs Reynolds was now puzzled indeed. The Master never missed dinner with his family if he could help it, and he could most certainly help riding out when it was getting dark, for apparently no reason at all!

Mr Darcy sat atop his great stallion, Cassius, and looked out over the great lake to Pemberley House, where lights shone from most of the windows.

He would never even consider lying to Elizabeth. To him, deception, lies; they were the greatest of all disrespects. He could not abide someone lying to him.

 _But Elizabeth did not lie to you_ , said a voice inside his head. He was angry at the voice.

"She was about to," he said aloud. "She only did not after I proved myself to her yet again! That money was in its envelope, addressed and ready to be sent!"

He sighed in frustration. "What else do I have to do? I have given her everything I have. Love, honesty, friendship, property, money, everything! Have I not done enough even to merit being told the truth?"

 _But Elizabeth did not lie to you. She was so ashamed of considering it that she cried her heart out in front of you. And she told you. She was so ashamed she came and told you, regardless of how difficult that must have been for her._

"We promised. We promised to always be honest."

 _And she was. This is not the reason you are angry, and you know it. It is merely a disguise. People think many things in moments of weakness. Whether they act on them or not is the important thing. Elizabeth, however close she may have come, did not act. She was honest. She told you the truth. You know why you are angry. That is not it._

Yes. Darcy did know why he was angry. Wickham. The villain was why he was angry. Wickham had done everything Darcy couldn't stand. He had deceived his father and his Godfather, and Darcy himself for a time. He had behaved disreputably and idly, squandered money and meddled with innocent girls. Georgiana. He had almost destroyed the most darling of girls. And now he was married to Elizabeth's sister, and Darcy knew he would never go away. That was why he was angry. The final realisation that he would be connected to Wickham forever.

 _Who do you have to blame for that? You made them marry._

"I wish to God I had not."

The voice in Darcy's head spoke again. _That is not true. If you had not made them marry, you could not have married Elizabeth. You had to choose whether to have both in your life, or neither of them. You_ chose _both._

"I did," Darcy whispered, and then smiled. He had chosen both – of course he had. He hated Wickham, but he loved Elizabeth so much more, and she was inside, thinking he was too angry to even be in the same house with her. The thought gave him new found determination.

Darcy spun Cassius around and galloped back towards home, giving him to the stable hand and walking with long, powerful strides towards the house.

Elizabeth and Georgiana had just finished the main course. The plates were being cleared, and poor Georgiana was exceedingly worried. Elizabeth, usually the crux of lively conversation, had scarce spoke two words all evening! Georgiana was also worried about her brother. He never missed dinner if he could help it. Surely – surely, they had not quarrelled!

Darcy then strode into the dining room, and Georgiana was alarmed at the intensity of the gaze shared by her brother and sister.

"Dessert, sir?" Asked a footman, who was serving.

"No, thank you."

He did not say anything else, just looked at Elizabeth, his eyes betraying to his sister how much he wanted to say.

Georgiana put her napkin on the table, and smiled at her brother. "I am quite full, and tired. I think I shall retire. Harrison, Oakley, if you would follow me?"

The two footmen looked at Darcy for confirmation, and at his nod, followed Georgiana out. Once the door was closed, Elizabeth stood up to stand with her husband, and opened her mouth to apologise again. Before she had said one word, however, she was silenced by Darcy's kiss. It was short, almost as if it was meant to silence her, but when Elizabeth looked at him, and saw the expression that she had come to relish, one of love and devotion, and not of anger, she flung her arms around her husband's neck and held on very tightly, tears of relief soaking into his jacket.

"I should not have left you like that," Darcy whispered as he held her back. "It was wrong of me. I am sorry."

"No. You had every right to go. It is I who must apologise again. I –"

"Stop. Do not apologise again. You did tell me the truth, and it must have been difficult for you. My anger was misplaced."

"It was not."

"It was. I was angry at Wickham – I was angry that I will never be free of him, and even though I send them money, I thought at least you would be free of them. And then I overreacted to your admission because it made me feel isolated; you know how important trust is to me."

Elizabeth nodded, now facing him, though still holding his hands. Darcy continued.

"I believe that is what I am angry at the most – that it does not matter what I do. We will never be free of them."

Elizabeth took in a shaky breath. "I am sorry. It is my fault you are aligned to him."

"It is not your fault. I chose to marry you. I chose to take both of you over neither."

Elizabeth looked at the ground. She felt one of Darcy's hands release her own and tilt her chin up so that she was looking at him.

"I have never regretted that choice, Elizabeth."

"Not even today?" Elizabeth's voice was small, and uncertain.

"Not even today," her husband replied, resolutely. "Nothing could ever make me regret marrying you, Elizabeth. I love you. You are my best friend."

Elizabeth felt the tears on her face again. "I love you too," she whispered. "And I could not imagine a better friend that you."

Darcy kissed her again, before taking her hand. They walked upstairs together.

Elizabeth lay with an arm resting on her husband's chest, another tucked between them. One of his arms held her tightly to his side, and his other hand rested gently on top of Elizabeth's.

"So," he mumbled into her hair. "Have you any other confessions?"

It was meant playfully, but Elizabeth thought for a moment, before exclaiming, startling Darcy.

"I do, I do have another confession. Oh goodness, I am so sorry. I was going to tell you but when we married, and I moved to you, I completely forgot about it."

To Darcy's surprise, Elizabeth had extricated herself from the sheets and had moved to the davenport in the corner of the room. She had forgotten her state of undress, but Darcy had not. He was watching her with dark eyes from across the room.

It wasn't until she turned around, a letter clasped to her chest, that she saw Darcy's expression and blushed. Elizabeth came back towards the bed, and as she came closer Darcy realised what it was she was holding. He could just make out the 'net' of 'Bennet' on the front. His own handwriting. He felt slightly sick.

He looked at Elizabeth, his jaw set. "Why in God's name do you still have that, that insulting letter?"

Elizabeth was quite taken aback by his reaction.

"I bid you destroy it!" He said more forcefully. "You said you would burn it! Why, why is it here, even now? Why would you keep it?"

He was almost shouting.

"I tried to burn it," Elizabeth cried. "I did."

Darcy noticed that on one side the edges of the paper were singed.

"But I could not. I could not burn it. I snatched it from the flames at the last moment."

Darcy was incredulous. "Why? Are you determined to think badly of me?"

"No!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "No, not at all! Quite the opposite! Before you gave me this I knew nothing of what you were, truly were. You see this letter as nothing but insulting to me, and there are parts that are, but it is so much more than that to me! This letter is the first time you ever sought my confidence, and without any hope of return. It showed me that you trusted me. You still loved me, and the adieu is kindness itself. It humbled me, properly, for the first time. It showed me how blind I had been, and how vain. Till that moment I never knew myself, and I keep it to remind me. To remind me of how wrong I was about you, to remind me never to judge too hastily. It is very important to me. And when I thought that you were lost to me forever," she said, her eyes bright with feeling, "it comforted me. It was a piece of you to hold onto."

Darcy was sure, now, that he had overreacted. He looked at the letter. He did not agree with what she had said. To him, it was a bitter reflection of his character. She, however, clearly did not think so. She clearly treasured it, and he would not deprive her of anything she treasured.

"It is your letter, Elizabeth. I do not feel the same way about the letter that you do, certainly, but if it is important to you, I shall try to understand."

Elizabeth smiled, and put the letter on the side table, cuddling into her husband.

"Thank you," she said, softly.

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*Please be advised; 40 pounds equates to roughly fifty thousand pounds in today's money.

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Thank you so much for staying with me, and please review! I would love to hear what you think, and your ideas for future chapters.


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